Dream Catch Me
by beautybelle300256
Summary: AU-ish recreation of the show with the twist of another female aboard the Robot from the very beginning. The VERY beginning. Before-they-ever-met beginning. Their lives can never be boring, even without the superhero gig. A collab fic with Sniggyfrumps.
1. Prologue

_**A/n:** This story is a collaboration that has been ongoing between myself and **Sniggyfrumps **for some time now_. _We'd like to think it's our masterpiece, but you all will have to be the judge(s). You can find this story on as well under her account. Please feel free to spam us both with your thoughts and questions and wonderful fangirl-y/boy juices. Here's a word from our sponsor Sniggy._

_**A/N (2)**: Ew. Fan juices. You can please go ahead and only squirt Belle with those, please. I think she might be into that. (_Belle_: They make great lube.) Anywho, this isn't as much as a 'masterpiece' as it is a really long brainfart that hopefully won't leave too much of a rancid smell. Enjoy. Or... don't. I'll be happy if anybody is even reading this. _

_**

* * *

Prologue**_

"_The beginning is scary; the end is usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that should count." - Sandra Bullock_

_**

* * *

**_

They were summoned during Private hour, which meant it was gravely important.

The two cyborg creatures walked quickly down the hall toward the Inner Chambers, neither speaking; both out of respect for the others in the Temple and because there really wasn't much to say right then. This meeting would be of great significance—either good or ill—and they would rather not dwell on what it could be about.

Upon reaching them, the Doors swung inward from some silent command by their owner. Master Zan was standing at the far end of the room with his hands behind his back, staring at the two small beings who lingered just outside his private office. Neither seemed quite ready to face the change they both knew lay behind this summons.

"_Well_, enter," the Mystic commanded and the black and orange creatures complied automatically. Years of tutelage under that voice had taught them quick, immediate, unquestioning responses were the best option.

The Doors swung shut with a foreboding _bang_.

All three beings stood there in silence for an elongated amount of time just staring at each other. Two giving off waves of apprehension the other a commanding calm.

"I am sure you are wondering why I have called you both here at such a time," the Mystic stated matter-of-factly with no hint of actual interest for whether or not they had in fact been wondering. "It is because the time has finally come for you both to advance in your fields of training. Mandarin, you shall focus more in tactical studies and fighting techniques." A pleased smile lit the orange cyborg monkey's face at this announcement, wiping off all previous worry from his stance. "Antauri, you shall continue to advance in the meditative arts and spiritual philosophy."

"Thank you, Master Zan," the black cyborg monkey said formally with a small bow. He turned back toward the Doors expecting them to open once more.

"Not so fast, young one. That is not all. Please come seat yourselves." The Master indicated two cushions placed on the floor of the vast crystalline room; the two pupils complied promptly.

"With these new promotions come extra benefits. We have watched you both carefully for the past few years and we have selected two very suitable companions for you."

"Companions, Master?" Mandarin asked.

"Yes, they shall be there to help you both in any way you deem fit—emotionally, physically, spiritually. They are to help you both relax and grow within your respective fields. They have been especially chosen based on compatibility of personality."

"Are they to be Teachers then?" Mandarin asked, still confused on the subject.

"Not exactly. They are to be more like life companions."

"Master? What is to be their purpose then? Have we not friends already?"

"They are to be anything you wish them to be. They are to be, as the Outside Worlds call them, wives."

The pregnant silence in the room grew to enormous size until an enraged screech shattered it.

"_What_ is the _meaning_ of this? What good will such companions be to us? They shall only distract us from our goals and studies. No, Master, I _cannot_ abide by this," Mandarin spoke harshly. His eyes were bright with emotion and he was flushed from embarrassment and passion.

"Be quiet, Mandarin, you know not what you speak about." Master Zan said just as harshly as his star pupil.

"Forgive me, Master, but I shall stick to my decision. I refuse to go through with this—this—this _undignified_ arrangement. I shall take no _wife_." He spoke the last word like a curse.

"Mandarin, please," his friend finally broke into the argument. "I am sure that the Masters would not do such a thing if it were not necessary. They only mean for our best."

"Don't tell me you are going to go along with this arrangement, Antauri," he turned toward his long time friend with an utterly bewildered and betrayed look.

"…I shall do as I am told out of devotion to the Order, like a true Mystic should. If the Masters believe we would benefit from such… companionship, then I shall trust their judgment. They have never steered us wrong before."

Mandarin glared at his compatriot then at the Mystic Master before them, his distaste for this whole discussion showing plainly on his face. He was never one to hide his emotions well, mused the Master as he let his pupil think.

"I still cannot abide by such a decision. I shall not take a wife or companion of any sort, Master, and that is final. If you send her to my quarters, then she shall be nothing than an accessory to guard the doors."

"Mandarin, please, that is no way to speak—"

"It is all right Antauri," the Master interrupted, staring down the orange simian, "If that is how he's going to be, then that is how it is. But know that this matter is not at rest, Mandarin, someday you _will _take on a paramour of some sort."

"My only concubine shall be the Power Primate."

With that, they were dismissed and walked back towards their respective quarters. This time the silence surrounding them was of a completely different type.


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N: I say, all this tiny piddly-diddly shite we're uploading right now is just embarrassing; from here on out chapters will be getting longer and longer. They will not stop (until we reach chapter 30, that is. And maybe an epilogue too); they can't. When you combine our writing styles **Sniggyfrumps **and I could not write less than 10 pages if we tried. I am not sorry. You people need to read more anyway._

* * *

_**Chapter 1**_

_**"Innocence dwells with wisdom, but never with ignorance." - William Blake**_

* * *

It was much to his surprise that Antauri found his private quarters already occupied when he returned from Study Hour in the West Wing Library.

"You must be my... _companion_." Antauri inquired politely as he warily eyed the being in front of him.

Dressed in the plain grey robes of a common Veran Scholar a gelatinous multi-hued invertebrate sat patiently waiting with legs crossed (by the Endless Void did he hope _those_ were _legs_) and a tranquil look in its – her? – blue eyes.

"My name is Helen," the voice was soft and sultry; it was very inviting and reassuring-of what Antauri could not begin to guess.

"Antauri. Do you mind if I ask what you are?"

The creature slanted its compact body slightly to one side – akin to tilting one's head Antauri guessed – and looked at him quizzically. "I can be anything you want. Would you prefer a form similar to your species?"

"Oh-uh-" Antauri stuttered, dearly hoping he hadn't offended the seemingly-made-of-compact-liquid-person-thing too badly. It was very rare that he was ever so out of it as he was now, but then again now was a very peculiar situation.

"It's no trouble," she assured Antauri; seeing him trying to back-pedal out of a supposed insult. "What is your favourite colour?"

"... Er, white. Why-oh." The being which previously had been a sort of large tentacle-monster-blob-thing transformed before his very eyes into a petite white robot monkey. "Thank you?"

"Would you care for something? Food? Drink?" She sounded oddly expectant.

"No, thank you. I am... well for now. Have you done this before?"

"No. I have been selected to be exclusively yours. Before this I worked in one of the Sister Temples, away from any male-besides the occasional visit from the Masters."

"I see. And what did you study there?"

"Many the same things as you: philosophy, prophesy, rhetoric, diplomacy, etiquette, and the like."

"Do you know your purpose here?"

"Yes, my purpose here was thoroughly explained to me."

"Good, because it was not to me. I admit I have almost no knowledge of what we are supposed to do."

"... Really? Would you like me to-ah-explain?" The being-_Helen_ seemed flustered. She stared at him with an amused yet disbelieving gleam in her eyes.

Antauri couldn't help but feel he was about to be let in on a particularly embarrassing secret. "That would be very helpful, yes."

"Perhaps we should sit down first?" The confidence from a few moments before had left her. She looked at him as if afraid he'd suddenly morph himself and her voice had taken on an uncertain and clumsy edge.

"As you wish."

As the spiritual robot monkey was slowly enlightened on the precise extent of Helen's... duties, Antauri's eyes grew considerably wider and his cheeks considerably redder.

He told himself that the Masters knew best.

Hopefully.

_'How did I end up in this again?'_ The male simian wondered with a detached fascination.

~8~

Later that evening the two simian students walked the halls on their way to the meditation chambers. Mandarin was still fuming and grumbling under his breath. When Antauri didn't even stop to correct his improper use of language, Mandarin glanced at his black friend. Antauri seemed dazed somehow, as if lost in his own little world - unusual behaviour for the normally attentive student of the Power Primate.

"What has _you_ so distracted this evening?" Mandarin asked with a mixture of annoyance and worry.

"... Forgive me, I was... lost in thought," Antauri answered, slightly flustered at being interrupted in his train of thought. The black cyborg had been mulling over _certain_ aspects of life he hadn't thought to consider before.

"Oh? About what?"

"The, er, full consequences of the companion arrangement."

Mandarin huffed. "The ridiculousness of it all! Being... _set up _for_ marriage._ And with such a pitiful partner to boot."

"You have met your companion then?"

"Unfortunately yes. She was already in my room when I returned from my session with Master Yun."

"What did you... do with her?" Antauri asked; hoping the other wouldn't detect the dread curiosity in his voice.

"I locked her in the washroom until she stopped talking. ... I should probably remember to let her out sometime after the Evening Meditation."

_"Mandarin-!"_

~8~

"_Mandarin!_" This time the name wasn't spoken with the umbrage of a shocked friend, but the ire of a teacher deeply upset with the disorderly conduct of his pupil.

"Yes, Master?" The voice was tight and devoid of the usually reverent tone he used toward this particular speaker.

"Your behavior of late has been increasingly... unfit for one such as yourself," the Veran Master spoke, his countenance collected as ever, but his words carrying definite severity. He reproachfully eyed the orange simian who didn't seem swayed by this scolding tone at all. "Have we not been kind to you? Did we not take you in and teach you our ways after finding you crashed and almost dead? You have great potential Mandarin-but even the greatest potential can be squandered if one does not heed the lessons of others before him. Don't you understand? We are trying to _help _you-you could be great."

"Great? Great how?"

"It is not entirely clear yet-you still have much to do. But I do know that your life is tied in with the fate of The Universe."

"How so, Master?" the previously rebellious simian was now completely enraptured with the Mystic's words.

"It is still unclear, Young One. But Fate has dictated that you shall be in the forefront of its plans. You have been specially _chosen_ for such a large task. _One _must not take the burden lightly."

Mandarin slowly swallowed the not-so-subtle subtext of his Master's words. "I... see, Master."

The reply was rapid and ruthless: "Do you? I should certainly hope so, for this is a great privilege that you seem ready to squander."

"Do you know what I am to do? Where I am to go, Master?" Mandarin asked; his interest by no means doused by the rebuke.

"That shall be revealed in time, Mandarin," Master Zan answered, suddenly neutral in tone. "For now, you simply need to focus on your studies and respect the Elders. This rebellion is not becoming of anything."

Mandarin visibly tensed as he was again reminded of the companion arrangement. "Master-_please_. I will not have any use for such a creature as the one you have sent me. I humbly request that you remove her from my side and allow me to continue my studies undisturbed."

"This creature is a gift. Do you so reject such kindness from anyone?"

"She is a _distraction_."

"Very well. We had hoped you would come around-but it is clear you will not bend on this issue. We shall have her removed and you will be free to return to studying. She will remain here until I am able to contact her home Temple. But just know that if you begin to slip in any area we shall have to return you to either a lower training level, or bring her back."

"I understand, Master. I will not fail you."

"You may leave now." The orange monkey did as he was told and walked confidently out of Zan's office, a pleased grin on his muzzle.

The Veran Mystic Master stood unmoving for a while before hovering out of the chambers and into the crystalloid hallways of the Temple.

The beauty and size of the large crystals adorning the pathways always entranced and amazed first visitors. However, the azure and emerald surfaces went unnoticed by Master Zan.

Too many years had passed since he had last regarded their glittering smoothness with awe.

Too many years and too many disappointments since he had stopped to invite a mesmerized young man to caress the ancient mineral formations. The eyes of humans were so expressive and these had blazed with a childish wonderment and a – Zan had realized this far too late – dangerous craving for knowledge.

Master Zan entered the swirling vortex of green energy and stepped into the innermost chamber of the Temple.

It was absurd to think that one of his stature and learning should have such base needs as a comfort zone… but the fact remained that being near the raw core of the Power Primate did bring a level of calmness to Zan's mind when he was troubled.

No. Not _troubled_. Simply… uncertain.

Staring into the shifting waves of green dominating the centre of the room, the erudite Mystic found himself unable to loosen the tension in his spirit. Meaningless regrets seemed to have come to bother him more and more in these last years. The hungry look in the eyes of his orange prodigy when given those clues of his alleged fate had reminded him too much of an old friend. And that look had brought them to this - a race against the rise of corruption.

No. There may be a few murky spots, but the path was otherwise clear. The Veran Mystics would offer the right guidance where they had neglected to in the past.

Mandarin would not be allowed to repeat the mistakes of his creator.

~8~

Antauri and Helen sat quietly on a bench under one large window in the Library. There was more than a little respectful distance between them. Emerald light and hues of blue and lavender shifted through the ornate crystalline indentations of the window and gave the feeling of sitting inside a giant kaleidoscope.

The Masters had thought it wise to let the couples spend the afternoon together. Getting to know each other.

The monochrome monkeys had tried to converse, but the words fell flat and the subjects felt strained. Instead they had taken to watch the train-wreck that was the other female companion frantically trying and horribly failing to bond with Mandarin. Neither of the two seemed to be enjoying their 'quality time' together.

Helen fidgeted in her robe. It was... weird, being so... fuzzy. She felt a bit too hot and it itched all the time. It was like being wrapped naked in a scratchy, hairy overcoat... although she did very much like the feel of stroking the glossy, white fur against her metal receptors.

Metal and flesh... how curious a blend. What sort of person would think of bending nature's way to one's will in such a fashion? Surely no living creature could be born naturally looking this way?

Helen stole a look at Antauri. She hadn't brushed this subject – amongst others – with him. Since the first meeting he had been extremely introverted and unwilling to even look at her... as if his gaze might defile her somehow.

Antauri focused on something on the far side of the Library. Helen followed his stare.

Mandarin had somehow managed to lose his significant other in the maze of bookshelves and the black and white robot monkeys watched him exit the room with a pleased, sneering look on his face.

"... Would you rather I leave as well?" Helen dared to ask, glancing at him quickly before snapping back to looking straight ahead.

"That will be... unnecessary." Antauri stated-that tinge of mortification still in his voice.

"I-I was told that you would be expecting my arrival. I feel I must apologize for the misunderstanding."

"No, I did _know _of your arrival, I was simply not told when or what exactly..." He trailed off as the uncomfortable silence took over them once again.

"I... see," she was becoming desperate to keep the conversation afloat. "And your... friend?"

"He also knew of the arrangement and stated directly that he rejected it outright. Master Zan knows that he is doing everything possible to disrupt this." Antauri had finally lost the embarrassment that had colored his voice, however now it was simply blank. Not much of an improvement in Helen's opinion.

"Did he know what the purpose of us was to be?" Helen dared ask. Anything was better than the awful silence that had dominated them for the past few hours.

"I... believe so. I believe that is why he is so set against it. I have not had time to confer properly with him."

"Oh." _So it's just this particular monk who had skipped out on class that day_, Helen thought. Honestly, what was she supposed to _do _with him? She had come ready to give herself up for the greater good of the universe and now... Now it seemed she would remain chaster than she would have if she had stayed at the Sister Monastery.

Helen began idly stroking her fur again-a habit she was slowly picking up out of frustration.

"So. Antauri," Helen tried again out of sheer determination. "What exactly would you like for me to do? I'm aware that you're not going to require me to... perform my _full _duties, but surely the Masters wouldn't have sent me here if they did not think that you would not require something from me."

Antauri sighed and looked at her for the first time since they had first met, "I suppose... a friend would be nice. I admit, I am not as... attentive to my corporeal needs as one ought to be." He glanced away again, that blush that was becoming increasingly familiar crept back up his face.

"Very well... a friend sounds nice." Helen smiled at him-not that he saw it.


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: More stuff. Enjoy._

* * *

_**Chapter 2**_

_**"...and I am waiting/for a rebirth of wonder..." - Lawrence Ferlinghetti**_

* * *

The halls were silent as they usually were this hour of the morning-despite that almost everyone was in them, heading to their respective destinations. It was not time for socializing; it was time to get the day's work started.

Carefully maneuvering the halls he knew so well the robotic simian (an unsolvable mystery even to himself) made his way toward the large chamber he would spend the morning in. It was a very simple room with very little in the way of decoration; the cyborg thought that the unique architecture was the only decoration it really needed anyway. However, it was cluttered up with his own workings and studies which took away the cold, isolated feel to it.

He picked up where he had left off yesterday-carefully studying the instructional book before attempting his own repetition of the procedure.

The loud explosion that followed was simultaneously surprising and expected. Surprising to the now singe furred blue monkey and expected by all his colleagues who knew how he liked to "add" to previously proven methods.

The smoke vents opened automatically once they detected the large chemical exhaust and the door opened, offering an escape for the scientist. He came out coughing.

"Another 'improvement,' Professor Gibson?" one of his teaching assistants inquired with a knowing look.

"Yes-yes. I suppose I should have recognized how combustible fluoride would become when left with a radical. Back to the drawing board I suppose."

"First, don't you think you should shower? Then get to your class? It's almost noon."

"What? My, my, time does get away from me. You're quite right, thank you."

Mr. Hal Gibson took off toward the emergency showers passing the rather large portrait of an obviously tall man in the schools traditional blue robe. The man was smiling out of the picture, a proud smile that only came about from achieving some long sought after goal. His face was long and lean with very prominent cheek bones-but his eyes captured your attention the most. They were _different_. You couldn't say how exactly, but they were-there was _something _in them. Gibson had passed this portrait hundreds of times in his years; he didn't spare it a glance now, he knew those eyes were watching him anyway.

He arrived in class ten minutes late (as usual) and immediately dove into the _fascinating_ world of microbiology and concepts so over the heads of his students that they didn't even feign interest anymore. They stared at him blankly, dearly wishing they had listened to their friends about this particular professor and wondering if it was too late to decide to become a painter instead. Or maybe a clown-quite possibly a painter of clowns or a clown who paints. Anything would do.

The students sighed in collective relief when he was interrupted part way through to sign for something or other.

"Couldn't this wait?" he asked sternly while looking over the form to make sure he was getting what he thought he'd ordered (you could never be to careful...).

"I tried to tell him, but the guy insisted that he was busy and it was either sign for it now, or he'd just leave with it. He is an... _interesting _fellow."

"Hmmm," Gibson responded, not really paying attention. He scribbled his name at the bottom of the form before handing it back to the being.

"Now, where was I? Oh yes, the nomenclature of aromatic compounds..." The students groaned in despair.

The assistant remained for a moment longer. He really wanted the professor to ask about the delivery guy, but the universe was not in the mood to grant his wishes. He walked out of the classroom and faced the red cybernetic monkey (identical to the blue one he had just left).

"Here you are," he gave the paperwork back to the pilot who looked it over before signing it himself.

"Um..." the assistant tried again to somehow bring up the subject of the connection between the pilot and his boss.

"Look-I don't know anything about where I come from or why I was built, okay?" the simian told him, obviously annoyed. "So you can stop gawking. Now, here's the receipt and have a nice day."

With that the second cybernetic monkey that the assistant had ever seen in his life stalked (practically ran) off.

"I don't get paid enough for this..." he finally decided; he went back to his research anyway.

~8~

Stars began to return to their normal rounded-looking shape as the vessel came out of hyper-space. The pilot checked his bearings once again to make sure he was in the right place before turning off the autopilot (which he preferred never to use, unless he had to) and navigating toward the large hovering space-center several parsecs away from him.

So far the trip had been a breeze-not even a stray comet or space wind had touched him. Maybe he'd finally lost them. Hey, a guy could hope...

Docking was a cinch but getting the right dockers was the hard part (it always was, why didn't the guys ever think of this crucial detail in advance? It'd save _a lot_ of time and energy). The cargo was...precious and privately ordered, so not just any old docker could take it. Who knows what that kind of chaos that could lead to?

Of course the fact that he was a bit... unique as a being didn't help matters. Everyone was always asking questions and wanting to stare at him. Usually it wasn't that bad on space stations, because they see a lot weirder things pass through, but this one looked like it was going to be one of the difficult ones.

"So...where you from?" the worker asked; staring at him from the corner of his eyes while pretending to check his clipboard to make sure everything was in order.

"Nowhere," the pilot responded; he was keeping a careful eye on three especially "fragile" crates being unloaded.

"Really? An 'ows that?"

"I'm a freelancer-I don't have a home," he said with as much inflection as his previous answer had contained-which wasn't much. He'd had this conversation far to many times to be bothered by it now. Besides, that one docker didn't seem to grasp the concept of walking very well and he was holding one of the "special" crates.

"Oh-uh," the supervisor was flustered. "Do you-er-do you know where you were born-uh built-um-"

"No." The red cybernetic simian bit out the answer just as that one docker finally tripped over his own feet and began dropping the "fragile" crate down the long plank way. SPRX-77 immediately activated his transformers and shot out a magnetic beam, catching the metallic crate full of less-than-legal substances and held it precariously just inches above the floor.

The rest of the workers stared at him in amazement for a moment before rushing over to try and take the crate. Sprx ignored them and finished setting it with the others as carefully as possible. He shot a meaning glare toward the clumsy docker who was still on his stomach gaping at the scene.

The supervisor gave a low whistle. "That was some save. Thanks."

"Tell your boss to get better handy-men next time. A jar like that could have blown this whole place to particles."

"Er-of course. Sorry about that-Um, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. Names SPRX-77, but call me Sprx."

"Yes, well, nice to meet you. You know, I'm surprised you don't have saws."¨

"Why would I have saws?" he said with such a tone, accompanied with the stare that let the supervisor know just how little the pilot believed his mental capabilities were. In fact, the worker could have gone on a tirade about how stars were actually glowing bugs called angels trapped in the void of space and were having a dance party out of it, and he would not have received the amount of disbelief and questions-about-his-state-of-mind from the pilot that were held in this look.

"Well, becaus-"

"'ey boss! We're all done!" one of the dockers called out. Indeed, he was right, all the specified crates had been unloaded and stacked neatly into their respective piles, awaiting to be delivered to their proper owners.

"All right. If you'll just sign the confirmation slip?" The supervisor proffered the clipboard to Sprx. Sprx scribbled something that might have been a signature but just as well might have been a cartoon of a bunny playing jacks.

"Nice doing business with ya," the cyborg said in such a way that let the being know that it had not in fact been a pleasure to work with him at all. Before he could respond back the pilot had already boarded his ship and started the un-docking process.

"Hiya!" a new voice chimed behind the supervisor, startling him into a fit.

"Oh-Otto, it's you."

"Yep. Whatcha doin'?"

"We just received a... private shipment of parts and energy sources. Would you mind opening that pile over there?"

"Sure thing!"

"Oh, and Otto?"

"Yeah?"

"Um... are there-Well do you know if-What I mean to say is-How many of you are there?"

Otto gave him a lopsided stare of incomprehension for a moment before rebounding into his usual grin and chuckling as if he'd just heard a great joke. "That's ridiculous. There's only one me."

The supervisor stared at him for a moment before deciding against pursuing the subject. The alarms started blaring then anyway, letting everyone know that the space shield was going up and the ship was un-docking.

~8~

Sprx had just completed detaching from the space center when the unthinkable happened: he got shot at. Not from close range, but the ships were closing in fast.

Thanks to his renowned great timing skills his shield would be nonoperational for the next five minutes-not that that mattered if they continued to shoot at him with such accuracy, he'd be space particles long before then. So he did the only thing that made any sense: he shot back.

Now, being still in the midst of space center traffic, movement was severely limited. That had never really stopped him before, so he began to weave in and out of the port traffic in highly illegal maneuvers that would have put the Intergalactic Space Academy Fleet to shame-or so he told himself.

That did not seem to deter his attackers though. They were out for blood. They shot toward his left engine, trying to get him out towards open space. He decided to drop at a 85 degree angle instead. He then did a barrel roll and retaliated fire before swerving to avoid a large Resource Ship.

Something thumped within his cargo bay and he cursed, remembering that he still had "fragile" substances within it that would not take to kindly to so much sloshing about. He steadied his ship before scanning the area for the perfect place to jump. There was one-but it was currently just behind the two vicious looking ships that were aiming at him.

"Cor," he breathed, not seeing too many options. If he actually tried to fight off these guys, he ran the risk of taking a hit to either an engine or the bay area which would most likely cause a chain reaction that involved him turning into burnt space toast. If he kept avoiding them he ran the risk of jostling the "fragile" cargo too much which would end the same as the first option. There really wasn't an option three...

Another well aimed laser shot him in the side, directly above the engines. Alarms began ringing: "Warning. Warning. Leak in Engine Room. Please turn off all extra power supplies."

"Oh shut up," he told the alarm, not really in a mood to deal with it.

"Incoming Transmission. Please Hold," the computerized voice alerted him just before his viewing screen crackled to life with the one being he didn't want to see on it.

"SPRX-77," the slimy worm-lizard-thing purred (if slimy-worm-lizard-things could purr). "We've been looking _everywhere _for you. Zaaba was very disappointed when you seemed to have disappeared from Quadrant Centra."

"Now, Lenny," Sprx smiled back at him in the same faux-pleasantry tone. "I'm sure you're exaggerating a bit. Zaaba knows how busy I am-Surely he wasn't that surprised."

"Ah, but you left without any good-byes. Not very courteous you know."

"Well I had pressing matters to attend to. Zaaba's a busy guy himself-I'm sure he understands."

"What Zaaba understand is that you skipped out with a rather large shipment still unpaid for. He's asked us to kindly collect it from you. In fact, Zaaba's put a price on your head, so large that every bounty hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you. I'm lucky I found you first."

"Ah, well I'm afraid that we're at an-what do they call it? An impasse; seeing as how I don't have it. Maybe he was mistaken?"

"No. Zaaba would not be mistaken with such an important matter. Now if you give it to me, I might forget I found you..."

"Well-you see Lenny, I don't have it with me...And I ain't paying for something I never took-or any extra for your troubles either. In fact you both can go to-"

"Then I'm afraid, SPRX-77, that we are going to have to take the only other valuable thing equivalent to the price."

"Oh?" Sprx had managed to get his shields up and drift _just enough..._" And what's that?" _Wait for it..._

"Your life." With that statement the two ships began opening fire once again.

Sprx took the brunt of the lasers before aligning just right for the hyper jump. As soon as he was relatively able to jump he wasted no time in doing so-even if it would kill the rest of that one engine and probably deplete his fuel since he hadn't been able to restock here like he'd planned. Oh well, life was full of uncertainties and what was wrong with a bit of adventure every now and then?

~8~

The supervisor and his crew kept a sensible distance as the green cyborg started to haphazardly climb the heap of crates – not seeming to either grasp or care that one wrong movement would paint the walls with his insides. Standing on top of the cargo, he smiled proudly as if he'd ascended a perilous mountain range.

That was Otto - every little menial task could be turned into an adventure, every moment of the monotonous cycle of sleep-work-survive most beings slouched through known as 'life' could be turned into an amusing escapade.

Otto extracted his saws and looked at the crates he was about to assault with a both comforting and manic gleam in his black orbs – like the doctor who goes 'This won't hurt a bit' before he merrily snaps the plastic gloves on and shoves tiny metal rods into random orifices. The simian mechanic started slashing at the metal boxes – seemingly at random – however, after a while the sides fell neatly off, revealing the goods within.

A crew member passed by with the contents of some of the 'private' shipment on a hover-trolley, plus another trolley for the green monkey who sprang up in order to inspect the merchandise.

"Oh, cool!" Otto exclaimed happily, fondling the inch-thick plastic wrapping inside which an energy core rested. "These will really pack a punch!"

The docker sent him a nervous, agreeing look - hoping that the meddling fingers of the cyborg wouldn't result in a demonstration of the destructive ability of said energy sources.

"I wish I could afford stuff like this," Otto wistfully sighed. "It would be _perfect."_

"What for?" the docker asked, despite his better judgement. His curiosity overcame the initial 'just forget it and walk away' urge Otto's gadgets seemed to instill in people.

"Oh, I'd make an' electric toothbrush."

"... And you'd want an extremely unstable proton core for that?" the docker asked, weak-minded as he was.

"Well, no. It'd be for the grill component. How else would I get it to barbeque Velarian Rat Monster flesh to a sunny, crispy colour?"

"Yer toothbrush... would have a grill feature?"

"Yeppers. So's when you're done eating, you can brush your breath minty fresh again!"

The docker tried not to visualize the smouldering results should the user forget to switch between features and just helped Otto stack the packages on the trolley and handed him the control remote for the hover-trolley. Then he did what he should have done from the start – forgot it and walked away.

Otto started to hum and walked off with the cargo designated for the workshop he apprenticed at. Or not so much 'apprenticed' as he did all the actual work and his superintendent blew all the free time he'd suddenly got on his hands on space soap operas and snooker in the office.

It was win-win really; the orders were done in record-time and as long as Otto kept the collateral damaged to his own section of the garage he could stash away spare parts and fiddle around with his own project on company time.

Walking the halls of the station, one was presented with enough variations in species and race to compose a three-hundred paper anthropology report and still have footnotes to add. Tall or small, carbon-based or consisting of gas-clouds, humanoid or crustacean – all had passed through with motives of varying degrees of shadiness and yet the green simian cyborg seemed to be the only one of his kind. As far as he knew, anyway.

Otto entered the workshop, plopped off most of the cargo in storage and headed for his lodgings with the rest. Behind the stained glass windows separating the office from the workshop Otto's boss was lamenting the poor choices made concerning the romantic partners of the 'Young and the Brainless'.

"I'm ba-ack!" Otto hollered.

"Oh Leonore, why can't you see how wrong he is for you," the voice of his superior sobbed through the open office door. "Toby only loves you for your first prize zero-gravity poodles."

"I'm sure she'll go back to Bryan any day now," Otto consoled and dropped a box of parts on his workbench. "He can't stay in that coma forever, right?"

The door slammed shut.

Otto shrugged and began adjusting the stiffness of the hairs in the toothbrush. Maybe, if modified just right, he could have it double as a grill cleanser. Or a toilet brush. Maybe both!

Later, nobody really knew _how_ the mechanic managed to obliterate one sixth of the station with a pack of toothbrushes and a recipe for cleaning liquid. Nobody really cared to find out either as there were more important things to discover - like how to grow back excessive amounts of skin and body parts.

Indeed, Otto knew how to make every day an adventure. Even if you dearly wished he wouldn't.

~8~

Ducking and rolling and running until her lungs hurt, a very similar creature was on an adventure of her own. She had to reach the summit of the mountain before dawn-and avoid every other high level student who was there to slow her down without actually fighting back. And it was raining-which just made her stupid bright yellow fur stick out all the more. Stupid rain. Stupid fur. Stupid training exercises. Stupid rules. Stupid _everything_.

If she wasn't in such a hurry she could jus-

No. No that's what this exercise was for; it is designed to help strengthen her patience and calm that strong, irrational, overpowering part of herself. If she couldn't do this then she was a failure as a warrior.

Warriors are centered. Warriors never rush into battle. Warriors are stronger than their emotions.

_This warrior has had just about enough,_ she thought as she once again had to dodge a projectile that was obviously coming from the cluster of trees to her left as well as another student who decided they wanted to test just how close they could get before she attacked back. She liked her personal space dang it.

She managed to gather herself enough _not _to attack the little bugger (although she made the mental note to request him as her sparring partner for the next day). She was maybe about a furlong from the top-if she squinted she could _just _make out Master Offay standing there. She was going to make it.

Just in time too-the rain was letting up and she could see how light the sky was compared to just a few hours ago.

She sped up despite her heaving chest and aching limbs-she could rest when she was through. A warrior does not concede to the lies of the body; their mind was stronger and their will was greater; the body could go on long after it demands to stop.

She was almost there.

A _snap! _alerted her to a final assault and she reacted on pure instinct.

She whirled toward the noise with her clenched fist extended, solidly connecting with her opponents face. She didn't stop to stare at her handy work-she had to keep going. She sprinted to Offay's side, with a few minutes to spare before the sun began to peak over the horizon.

"I...I di-I did it, Master," she beamed up at him, panting heavily while she coerced her limbs to keep standing a little bit longer.

"Did you now?" He questioned with an enigmatic look on his face. "I thought the task was to make it to the top _without _attacking your fellow students."

"Master?" She inquired. "I didn't attack anyone."

"Then what do you call that?" He pointed to where the alien lay, holding his offal orifice and glaring at her.

"I-I...I didn't attack him. I was simply trying to-I didn't mean to-I wasn't _trying _to hit him."

"None the less, you inflicted harm upon him. I am sorry, Nova; you may have made it to the destination in due time, but you have failed the task."

"No! No, no, no, _nonono!_ I got up here in time without deliberately attacking anyone! This isn't _fair_. I beat this challenge, Master. You know I did. I'll do it again, if you want."

"I'm sorry," the old Master began to trek down the mountain at a leisurely pace; he stopped to help the student up before sending one last pitying glance at his star pupil.

Nova felt on fire. _It's not fair,_ she repeated to herself.

She turned to face the majestic sunrise which had painted the sky a bold splash of red, speckled with golds and oranges and purples while the deep greens of the surrounding jungle tops where revealed.

She looked at it all and gave a mighty scream of rage. She dared it all to defy her ever again.

A few final rain drops hitting her face with a slight sizzle was her only response.

~8~

A true Mystic is devoted to the Order. A true Mystic is diligent in his studies. A true Mystic is focused in body and spirit. A true Mystic doesn't care that his friend is wasting time on an insignificant female constantly badgering him for attention.

... Well, three out of four was acceptable.

Mandarin relaxed his meditative pose but fixed a tense stare on the figures of Antauri and Helen who were sitting outside in the gardens, yet again squandering Private Hour on meaningless chatter. Really, sometimes Antauri did make too much of an effort in order to please their Masters. ... At least Mandarin hoped that was the reason his fellow student spent so much time with that shape-shifting nag.

Doubt was beginning to seep into him, though, which frustrated the orange monkey greatly. Antauri and he had great potential; they were meant to perform great deeds that would affect the entire universe _provided_ they incessantly honed their skills and concentrated on what was important. Sitting on a bench pointing out quaint shapes in the clouds hardly classified as 'important'.

They had to focus. Focus and train to ready themselves for their cosmic responsibilities. Even more so now that Master Zan had suggested that Mandarin was destined for undertakings far greater than what any other being could hope for.

Destined. Especially Chosen. He could be the One to lead the course of Fate, to shepherd the Universe into glorious ages of peace and order. With power and knowledge, he could turn the tides in war and deem the unworthy to perish, while the valiant and skilled would be allowed to prosper. He could will Chaos into Cosmos.

Master Zan had let them know of others such as themselves - kin, family - worthy of Antauri and Mandarin's leadership and guidance. They were fated to stand together with Mandarin as the leader and protect the Universe against itself. Together, they could bring about his envisioned age of strength and discipline.

However, it would need constant vigilance and never-ending preparation as there would always be somebody stronger, more agile, and more powerful. Any diversion from such devotion to perfection would be fatal. It only proved to underline the absurdity of this companion arrangement. It was not only distracting Antauri, but Mandarin as well – he was both worried for and aggravated with his friend for being so easily led astray.

Ludicrous. And unfitting for a true Mystic. Mandarin would never let any mistress lure him away from his obligation. He would see to it that Destiny would be his only bed-mate.


	4. Chapter 3

_A/N: It just doesn't look right unless something is written up here, y'know?_

* * *

_**Chapter 3**_  
_**"Your friends will know you better in the first minute you meet than your acquaintances will know you in a thousand years." - Richard Bach**_

* * *

He had never really liked his job. Sure he liked having money that he could blow on whatever he wanted, but he didn't really like having to _do _stuff for it (especially the not-quite-legal things that consisted of most of his paychecks). But it provided enough freedom and variation that was hard to be bored with; so it was okay.

Right now, though, he really wanted to turn down this particular job.

He was on some hippy-space-crystal planet being lead around by some robed guy and he was supposedly going to deliver some "items" to some backwoods world that was as high on the Peace Keeping Chart as this one was. Fun.

Robe-guy was not being very helpful though.

"Look, it's great your crystals are also your power source and stuff, but I really don't have time to sit around. So, either get me to the 'cargo' or let me be on my way."

"Patience, Young One. All in good time."

"I don't _have _time-" Sprx gave up arguing when the guy started humming along with what appeared to be the rest of the Temple. _Stupid hippy monk people, _he thought.

He was eventually lead to a rather long hallway with a very large door at the end of it. He stared up at his guide waiting for some clue as to what was going on. Robe-guy just pointed down the hall before walking off, continuing his humming.

"What a bunch of freaks," he said before walking down the hall. Hopefully his "cargo" would be just through the doors.

Oh boy, _was it_.

~8~

At first there was surprise. Then disbelief. Then more disbelief and a whole lotta staring. A whirlwind of thoughts and feelings and outcries caught in their throats raced inside each and every one of the cyborg monkeys. One thought pervaded them all: _There are others like me_.

Because being unique is all well and good and dandy until you realize how _lonely_ it is.

The stares you get used to, answering questions becomes a knee-jerk reaction. But the feeling of being the only one of your kind, the knowledge that nobody will ever understand how your tail-gadgets function or sympathize with how difficult it is to clean your helmet is overwhelming – the pain of that knowledge never dulls, only becomes stronger with each passing year spent amongst strangers who misguidedly keep offering you bananas.

But they weren't alone anymore. There were others like them, others who could understand and connect with them like no one else...

"You're a pretty pink colour," Otto said to Sprx.

"And you're asking for trouble," Sprx snapped back.

"Well, you must admit that your dye is of a rather faded saturation to be considered red."

"You want in on this too, Bluebell? Because I've got plenty."

"Plenty of hot air, if you ask me."

"_Nobody_ asked you, Blondie."

"_Blondie! _I'm going to bend you into non-Euclidean shapes you sorry punk!"

Before the fray could turn disfiguringly physical, three monkeys approached them. A pair of black and orange monkeys was walking quickly while the white and third monkey lagged behind, unsure of the situation.

"Please, this is a reunion between lost family," the black monkey implored with arms open, while the orange went over them with a scrutinizing stare. "It is to be a happy event."

The disputing monkeys turned to the newcomers, surprised – but not astonished– at the presence of even more cyborg monkeys.

Gibson cleared his throat. "Indeed. Perhaps we should start over. My name is Mr. Hal Gibson," he said politely and looked at Sprx inquiringly. None of them had been quite prepared for this first acquaintance; it was not a surprise that they should start off on the wrong foot. Perhaps if they took the time to properly converse, they could gather much from each other. Kindred spirits are hard to come by.

Sprx gave all monkeys present a thorough glare before crossing his arms. "I'm SPRX-77. Call me Sprx." Monkey-doodling cryptic crystal-huggers with their theatrical antics and surprise family gatherings. They had _known_ and they couldn't be bothered to tell him in advance? For the sake of appearing all mysteeerious, probably. What a circus. Still... other monkeys. It was worth hanging around for.

Otto, whose eyes were still saucer-wide at the initial excitement of seeing other robot monkeys happily chattered on: "I'm Otto. Call me, uh, Otto." He chuckled lightly and took to rubbing the back of his head. The universe is a big place – so big, in fact, that it has Everything in it – of course there are other robot monkeys - he just thought he'd see such things as a banjo-playing tea-cup-shaped folk dancer before meeting them.

"My name is Nova," the yellow monkey said with a firm voice. She kept her posture straight and her countenance neutral - but inside, curiosity and agitation bubbled. These were the allies Master Offay had spoken so highly of. She had been exhilarated at the thought of family, but that glee had dwindled minutely when they opened their mouths and stupidity came out.

"I am Antauri," the black monkey said and smiled at them serenely. He radiated an aura of tranquillity that clashed with the timidity displayed by the white monkey behind him as she peeked at the rainbow-coloured group over his shoulder. She looked like she felt she didn't belong with them, like she didn't deserve to belong.

"My name is Helen," she said after Antauri nudged her gently.

Immediately after she presented herself, Mandarin quit his silent in-depth examination of his future comrades and said with a voice equalling Nova's in steadfastness: "I am Mandarin. You have all been brought here to Paralladoll - the home of the Veran Mystics - to fulfil the course of destiny."

Sprx rolled his eyes. _Oh joy, this one loves his drama._

Gibson frowned. "Destiny, you say? I was requested here with the intention of research."

"Lured, more like," Sprx cut in. "I wasn't told that I'd be shipping relatives around. Doesn't mean you get a discount, y'know." The last part was directed at the robed Mystic standing courteously in the background and patiently over-seeing the reunion of the cyborgs and the exchange that followed. Now that he was called to attention, he stepped forward.

"You have indeed been called here on false grounds. Please forgive us our deceit as the true purpose was to reunite you with your kin."

"How nice," Sprx snorted.

"Yeah," Otto said joyfully and received an odd look from the red pilot.

"Our Master Zan will explain. Please, follow me. I shall take you to see him immediately."

The monkeys followed the Veran Mystic, all the newcomers displaying varying degrees of curiosity and mistrust. They were herded through the glittering hallways into one of the Inner Chambers where a tall robed being awaited them, having an air around him as if he'd waited all morning and wasn't particularly thrilled about it.

Mandarin, Antauri and Helen immediately bowed shortly in respect, while the others eyed the Master. His posture and appearance signalled a piercing authority that demanded instant respect.

"The intention of your gathering here is not only that of a mere reunion. The Universe has far greater fates in store for all of you." The severity of the voice hinted at no use of dramatics – these were the facts as the robotic simians had to accept them and nothing else.

"Here on Paralladoll, we, the Veran Mystics, learn to wield the sacred energy of the Power Primate. Through it, we are able to discern the course of Fate. We have learned of a great danger threatening the very threads of reality - and of the Team of heroes who would stand between this looming threat and the undisturbed existence of the Universe."

The words weighed heavily on the multi-coloured monkeys. Mandarin seemed almost happy while the faces of Gibson, Otto and Sprx ranged from slight nervousness to outright dismay. Nova looked strict, but still awaiting further orders – like a true warrior ready for battle. Antauri and Helen waited in dutiful silence for their Master to go on.

"You were always meant to form this Team – however this imminent threat has forced us to join you on rather short notice. The duty and responsibility of protecting the Universe as the Hyperforce is now yours."

"We shall see to it that you will not be disappointed, Master," Mandarin spoke with no little amount of pride.

"Hey now - I came here as an errand boy, granted - but I definitely did not sign up for any saving-the-day-malarkey!" Sprx had woken up from his initial stupor and felt it right to speak his mind. As if he ever did anything different.

"... I have uncertainties about this as well," Gibson squeaked. "I am not sure if I qualify for this sort of enterprise."

"I think it sounds like fun!" Otto said, and was gifted with several odd looks – as per usual.

"Master Offay has put his faith in me to ally with you," Nova said. "I'll respect his wishes on my honour as a warrior. I'll join your Team."

Antauri, ever the peace-maker, turned to the red and blue monkeys before Mandarin could get the chance to rebuke them into submission. "I know this responsibility seems sudden and unfair, but the importance of this is far greater than any of us can perceive."

"... surrounded by pushover preachers and lunatics..."

"I am a teacher, a scientist – not a combatant. Do you expect me to lecture the evils of the cosmos into capitulation?" Gibson rejoined. He didn't look fearful as much as guarded – like he wanted to be sure he wasn't hired on the wrong credentials.

"Each of you has different skills to offer. The variety of your abilities will ensure your victory, but you must stand united," the commanding voice of the Mystic Master rang through the increasingly heating discussion.

Gibson heeded the words of the Veran and slowly looked around at the others. "I... suppose I could offer my services... for a trial period, that is."

Master Zan nodded, much in the way a father nods in patient approval while the child lists the cute and short-sighted plans it has made for the rest of the day.

Everybody turned to stare expectantly at the red monkey.

"... what?" Sprx asked; feeling swamped. "Do you think I'd be a valuable addition to the Team if I'd be bullied into this through _peer_ _pressure_? What is this – third grade?"

"Dontcha wanna help people and be a hero?" Otto asked.

"I dunno. Does it pay well?"

Mandarin was growing increasingly infuriated with the lax attitude of the pilot. "Did you not listen? This is _not_ your lacklustre day-to-day job! Galaxies upon galaxies will depend on _our efforts_ to keep them safe! This is our purpose, this is our _Fate_! This is greater than whatever worthless jack-of-all-trades career you used to waste your pathetic excuse for a life on!"

"Enough, Mandarin," Master Zan declared. His orange student immediately quieted, but it was clear that he wasn't ashamed of his outburst and had more to offer should the need arise.

However, the enraged words seemed to have struck a chord in Sprx. The pilot fell to pondering silence while Master Zan gave each and every one of the monkeys one final stare of judgement before joining his palms and saying: "... Let this conversation rest for now. I am sure you will come to a conclusion, given some time." His tone of voice clearly indicated what conclusion Sprx had better come to or else it was the Endless Void for him, but no snarky come-backs were made as Antauri gestured the others to follow him out into the glittering hallways.

The red, black, green, blue and white monkeys slowly receded out of sight. Master Zan called Mandarin and Nova to stay while the others went on ahead. They both looked at each other quizzically but remained as told.

"Now I'm sure this has been a very exciting day for you both, but we must go over a few things," the Master began, giving them both meaningful stares. Mandarin experienced a sinking feeling as he recognized the last time that such a tone had been directed toward him.

"I'm sure you are both aware of your positions within this Team-and feel it your duty to act accordingly on them. That is good. You are both strong and loyal and will complement each other well."

Mandarin suddenly had an overwhelming desire to inflict harm on himself via blunt force trauma to his cranium. That crystal over there seemed solid enough...

"This is not to be taken lightly by any means. Destiny has not given us a clear view of what trials you are to undergo yet, but sticking together is key. That much we can foretell-"

"Excuse me," Nova finally piped up. "But, what exactly are you talking about? Shouldn't you be talking to everyone?"

"My dear, I am speaking of you and your leader's inevitable union."

"_What?_" Neither Mystic had previously known that a voice could both freeze and burn one's blood at the same time, but that was the gift of female-kind.

"I have already told you, Master Zan, I shall not take a mate of any kind," Mandarin informed his Master who seemed to have developed some sort of elderly dementia as of late.

"You bet your scrawny little tail you're not-at least with me."

"Silence! I believe I told you Mandarin that you would take on a mate someday-and this is who the Universe has sent. You cannot deny Fate."

"We'll see about that," Nova interjected. "Listen here _Zan_ there is no monkey-doodlin' way that I am going to just keel over and _mate _with someone just because you said so. I don't care who or what you heard it from-there is not a raincloud's chance on the Celestial Flames of Eron that I am going to go along with this. _Is. That. Clear?_"

Mandarin had to admit he was impressed with the female's nerve to stand up so vehemently to the powerful Mystic. He looked up with an air of mutual sentiment toward his Master, awaiting a decree.

"I'm afraid this cannot be stopped. Whether you wish it or not it has been decreed that-"

"I don't care. I will make sure it doesn't happen. There is nothing in this universe that can force me to become some-some-some _dependent little biddy._"

The monks watched the highly enraged female storm down the hall in the direction the others had been lead.

"You've lived your whole life here then?" Gibson asked, drawn into the conversation with the black monkey.

The previous exchange with the head of the Veran order still had him shaken to his very core, but the quiet and calm demeanor of the black monkey prevented the scientist from running for the hills screaming just yet.

There was something… _familiar_ - not only about Antauri, but about the others as well. It felt like he had been mentally holding hands with them his whole life without knowing - the physical distance had strained that contact – and now that he was in close proximity to these his future allies, the pull on that contact relaxed and let him feel just how tense he had been _spiritually_, he supposed, up until now. However, he couldn't detect that feeling of closeness from the white monkey—Helen. She was… not present in this mental encirclement.

"As long as my memory serves to remember, Mandarin and I have remained here as students, serving the Order and preparing ourselves for this day."

Otto shook himself away from the shiny distractions that were the vast interior design of the Temple. "Must've been nice to grow up with other Robot Monkeys, huh? I would've liked that. Somebody to run around and climb stuff with."

Helen looked progressively more uneasy.

"… I am not quite like you," she admitted.

"How so?" Gibson inquired politely, sensing her discomfort.

"My species have the ability to change their physical shell. I took this form when I became bonded to Antauri."

Gibson gawked with such vigor that it had Helen tense up like a soldier snapped to attention. "You have the innate ability to change the very structure of your cells?"

"… yes." It had never been that big of deal – nothing was that big of a deal on Paralladoll, unless Master Zan said it was. And he didn't. "I just… will it to happen. It is a trait all of my species possess." Helen carried on, spurred on by the blue monkey's obvious interest but deterred by the manic gleam in Gibson's ocular lenses.

"Your molecular build can shape itself into complex biological compositions and mass shapes? _At will?_ Amazing! You simply must come to my laboratory and let me probe you sometime!"

The group, who had been slowly walking along stopped on cue, all but Gibson rigid with embarrassment.

"…"

The awkward silence inflated and oppressed everybody present like a giant and overly eager airbag.

Sprx was the first to regain his ability to speak: "… Wow Hal, that's… a _great_ pick-up line an' all, but Helen _is_ married, y'know."

There was a definite audible _snap_ as Gibson's mind broke when the horrible, horrible connotations of his request slammed against him like a truck made of plastic explosives and filled with bricks on fire. The scientist made a gargled sound and looked about ready to keel over and faint.

Sprx turned with a grin - noticeably cheered up at the stunned reaction of the blue cyborg - to the just as flabbergasted Helen. "Oh don't you worry; I'm sure he says that to every pretty girl he meets." The pilot noticed movement in his peripheral vision and fixated on somebody quickly advancing on the group. "… and speaking of pretty girls… What did Chief Hippy have to announce, Blondie?"

The yellow monkey marched with all the gusto of an incensed mother bear seeing her cub being slung yipping for dear life over the shoulder of a fat, greasy lumber jack. "First off, Pinky – shut up before I shut you down. Second – what's with him?"

The monkeys turned to look at the scientist who appeared to be foaming at the mouth.

"Oh dear," Helen whispered.

"Eh. He just needs to get over himself," Sprx said, annoyed at the cheap shot at his fur pigment.

"May I ask what Master Zan wanted with the two of you?" Antauri asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Nova answered curtly. _Remember your vow to Master Offay; Master Offay trusts you to do this; Master Offay said this is what I've trained for my whole life… to be a warrior, to fight for justice, to die if necessary… I'd rather steer right into a white dwarf than become a housewife – a detail he neglected to mention!_

Nova's cheek twitched precariously as Mandarin closed in on the group. The two of them didn't make eye contact.

"Hiya," Otto cheered. "What was—"

"_I don't want to talk about it_," the orange simian cut him off.

"Oookay," Sprx said. "I'm not getting any good vibes from this Zanny guy… I hope I'm not making a mistake here…"

"Oh? You're really joining?" Otto asked excitedly.

Sprx shrugged. "Until something better shows up, I guess," he grinned at Mandarin who glared in response.

"So what now?" Otto asked and looked around at the others as they had unconsciously formed a closed circle. "Where do we go from here?"

Mandarin straightened up and crossed his arms. "According to Master Zan," he said, "we're going Home."

"And where, exactly, is Home?" the pilot asked crossing his arms.

"A small planet over in the Outskirts Region. I believe it is called Sh-"

"Shuggazoom," Sprx interrupted him. He shook his head in disgust or disappointment or maybe exasperation. "Yeah yeah yeah, that's what I was called here for. I was supposed to deliver some 'cargo' to the little backworld planet. You're lucky I stalked up on supplies."

"Deliver some 'cargo'? That can_not_ be legal," the blue monkey chimed in horrified. "Under the Intergalactic Peace Conference Treaty such actions are prohibited under the penalty of-"

"Well we wouldn't exactly be going on this little heroic stint if the universe followed that useless little piece of paper, would we?"

Gibson was interrupted from continuing this moral debate by Antauri who once again endeavoured to keep the peace. "Please, let us not quarrel over such things. They are in the past now, and I'm sure that Sprx here will no longer be engaging in such actions as long as he is a part of this Team. Isn't that right?"

Sprx stared blankly back at the expectant black monkey: "Yeah, sure. As long as I'm on the team..."

"When're we leavin'?" Otto asked; he was bouncing with excitement. The prospect of living with other Robotic Monkeys just like him and going on amazing _real _adventures together was rushing to his head. He vaguely wondered if they'd let him test out some ideas he had about how they worked; now that there were more of them he could stand to do some deconstruction.

"We shall leave at first light tomorrow," Mandarin proclaimed. He slipped into his role as leader rather well-naturally even.

"And who made you the boss?" Sprx asked.

"The Order has foreseen that _I _am to lead you all into our glorious and noble destiny."

"Oh really? And what if I don't think you're qualified enough?"

"I am one of the highest of the Order, I am as close to a Master without remaining here. I have learned secrets of the universe that you cannot fathom. I am a Master in combat and in the Power Primate. Who else could do so? You? I think not."

"You've never even been off planet, what could you know about the universe that I haven't seen with my own eyes?"

"Mandarin, Sprx, _please_-"

Antauri was ignored this time as the two males faced off. They glared at each other, challenging to see who would back down first.

"You both are being _ridiculous_," a new voice broke in. Nova rolled her eyes at them. "I could kick both your butts in half the time."

"Why don't you go talk in the kitchen with Helen over there, _Blondie_, and leave the men-folk here to sort this out?" Sprx switched his ire over to the she-warrior.

"Oh that is _it_. I've had it with your smart-punk attitude and obnoxious comments," Nova activated her large fists-eliciting a surprised gasp from most of the others in the group-and charged at the light red monkey. "Boom-Boom Wake-up!" she called as she sent him careening into the crystalline wall.

Everyone stared at the scene in shocked horror for a moment. The red monkey lay where he'd embedded into the wall before slowly sliding down and finally stopped on the floor unmoving. No one's face was more horrified than that of the yellow monkey. _Oh stardust what have I done? How many times has Master Offay warned me not to let stuff get to me like this? Why did I do that? What if he's dead? Oh my... I killed him. I killed him I killed him I killed him-_

Sprx groaned before slowly raising himself up and tenderly touching the back of his helmet. His movement initiated a flurry of activity as everyone rushed to him to help him up.

"Oh dear, this looks bad-if only I had my medical bag, I'd could get you fixed up. Perhaps it's only surfatory-yes, I'll need to go get my scanner before I'm able to determine any more. Just stay right here and I'll be right ba-"

"Hal?" Sprx looked at him. "Shut up."

Gibson did so. He and the rest of the Team watched the red monkey almost limp off down the hallway.

"Is he gonna be all right?" Otto asked.

"I... I don't know," Gibson answered honestly.

"Well, this wasn't a good start. Hopefully tomorrow you will all be able to control yourselves better-I'm sure it was just the excitement and shock." Mandarin stated, looking on disapprovingly at them all. Then he too turned down the hall and began to head towards his private chambers.

Nova had hung her head toward the floor at some point and refused to meet anyone's eye now, even as she began to wonder the halls away from the 'Team'.

"I shall... we can show you both to your rooms for the night, if you wish." Antauri turned to the last two monkeys. He looked far more weary than he had a while ago and Helen gently clasped his hand.

"That would be accommodating, thank you."

This was going to be harder than they had thought.

Leaving was a fairly routine procedure: they all packed their stuff away in the hold and buckled down for take off after the Verans said a few final words of wisdom about peace and destiny and teamwork and the like and then they were off.

The journey however...

"Oh wow, a Tychean hyper drive!"

"Don't touch it."

"Ohh! Ionized shield generator!"

"Don't touch it."

"Ooooooooh!"

"Whatever it is - _don't touch it_."

A loud beeping noise blared through the relatively small spacecraft. Otto sheepishly retreated from the console he had been hovering over.

"What part of _"don't touch it"_ didn't you get?" Sprx barked.

"The 'don't' part, obviously," Gibson dryly pointed out.

"I was looking for the cupholder," Otto defended himself and started to toy with another console.

"Don't t- there's no cupholder," Sprx said irritably.

"Wha? But where will we put our drinks during battles?"

"Maybe in your big mouth, does that work for you?"

"Not much of a first-class spacecraft without a cupholder, is it?" Gibson added with a teasing smirk.

"That's it! If _anybody_ has _any_ more complaints about cupholders or seat warmers or whatever-I'm turning this _perfectly fine spaceship _around and dropping you all off with the crystal-gazing hippies!"

"Y'know, a cupholder really is a good idea. Drinks tend to spill and stain awfully, especially when you're about to be pulverized at short range."

"Shut it Lenny, nobody invited—_Lenny?"_

Everyone turned their undivided attention to the communications screen. Otto had inadvertently activated the open line and thus enabled the slug mercenary to smile in all his gory glory at the cockpit full of befuddled robot monkeys.

"Hiya, Sprx. Looks like you've scooped up a mangy bunch of buds. Maybe you'll introduce us?"

The radar beeped hysterically to indicate that a band of spaceships were closing in, all with weapons ready and targeting the ship in which their explodey-prone bodies rested.

Sprx cursed under his breath. "Can we reschedule this tete-a-tete? I'm busy."

"You will be - busy fighting for your life. Zaaba doesn't like loose ends."

Sprx could practically feel Mandarin's stare drill into the back of his neck. "What is your connection with these ruffians?"

"Uh… Nuthin'."

"They seem pretty ticked over 'nothing'," Nova said angrily.

"Do ya owe 'em money or something?" Otto asked.

"The only thing I owe them is a swift kick in the—"

"_Hello! _Contracted maniacs with lasers here! Could we shift the attention to the threat on your lives?" Lenny snapped.

Another voice suddenly cut in, high-pitched and nasal: "I take offence to that. I'm a perfectly normal non-maniac."

"Your bounty hunter alias is 'Crispy the Spleen-Frier'. That's not normal," Lenny said blankly.

"It's for advertisement and image purposes only!"

"I've seen you rip off the arm of one 'client' and beat him to a pulp with it. You giggled the whole time. Then stuffed the arm in his mouth and stole his wallet."

"That's _work_. After hours I'm a perfectly sane and wholesome Galactic Citizen. I'll have you know I took up basket-weaving and flower arrangement the other day. I can make you a pansy basket for the patio if you'd like."

The line went silent for a long while.

"O… kay. We're a bunch of maniacs with lasers and another - for want of a better word – _guy_ with lasers and we're going to kill y'all horribly."

"Now would be the time to prove yourself as a pilot," Mandarin hissed into Sprx' auditory receptor. The red cyborg wasted no time on answering, but booted up the hyper-space sequence at once.

"I'm afraid that little stint of yours isn't going to work this time. You see, here are all the various hunters out for the price on your head. I'm sure you're familiar with all of them and their reputations for ruthless captures and success rates."

Sprx was still tapping desperately away at all the various knobs and buttons of the control panel-most of which not even Otto had figured out what they did; Sprx preferred a customized system.

"You might wanna buckle down..." he hissed at his passengers; most of whom were standing around gawking at the scene or glaring at him.

They cyborg monkeys began to scramble around the cabin, getting into various seats and tying themselves to them as tightly as possible.

Sprx braced himself for the first stunt that had flitted through his mind: becoming the hunter, so to speak. The best defense was a good offense (or something like that...) and he could use a really good defense right now. So he deployed a few of his Bombadier Cannon Missiles-which were highly experimental and therefore very very explodey and not all that accurate-at the large formation of ships blocking him in.

He released the bottom-thrusters on the ship and was dropped a few good meters from the carnage that ensued but was unable to fully appreciate his working tactic as he spun round and shot at the other ships which were opening fire on him in return.

"You! Green! What did you do to the shields? They're not working!" he called out as another laser blast was taken full force. His sudden swerve detained the specified monkey from answering right away due to the air being knocked from his chest.

"I... I may have hit a button or two..." Otto admitted.

"_Which _buttons?" the pilot's tone was conversely calm and stable in contrast to his tense stance about the current situation.

"The-um, the blue one?"

"The blu-There isn't a blue button!" The ship lurched again. Sprx had just traded some paint with another ship in an attempt not to be directly hit in the right engine.

"I don't know!" Otto yelled back; he hadn't ever had to think so quickly under such pressure. He was understandably a bit stressed and confused.

Sprx growled as he wove in and out of the small fleet all bent on decimating his small craft.

"Blue! You said you were a scientist, yeah?"

"Yes..." Gibson admitted; he was looking a little greener than he had when they'd left planet.

"Can you come up with a solution that will detonate in about thirty seconds or so in -270 degrees C vacuum pressure?"

"Possibly, given the right chemicals. Yes, and the proper time to test them and make sure that they will follow through every ti-" his voice was cut off as the ship once again dropped suddenly and completely switched directions.

"Well you don't have that kind of time. Get back to the cargo bay, there're some big metal boxes marked 'Private Property.' Inside is sobxen gibarium and nanixa-do whatever you can to get them to stay stable long enough before exploding. Use whatever you have to-there's a deep freezer and other scrap and chemicals in there too."

Gibson stared at the pilot for a second before scrambling to unbuckle himself from his chair. The chemicals the pilot described were highly illegal and could result in a very destructive explosive, if combined correctly. He debated with himself for a moment about the implications of what this would mean, before deciding that his life was more important than some law. As soon as he was on his feet Sprx had to turn hard to avoid a large incoming missile, knocking the scientist off his feet.

"Well it'll be easier if you could try and refrain from such excessive maneuvers!" he called out. He picked himself off the floor and made a bee-line for the back of the ship.

"No promises!" Sprx hollered back.

He had to focus on not dying _before _the chemicals were properly mixed and then come up with a plan that would make sure that his ship would avoid the large explosion that would result once he'd released it into space. _This would be so much easier if they'd just clear a path for me... _he thought while shooting back at one particularly persistent ship that he could not seem to shake.

"How did you say you knew these ruffians?" Mandarin called out to him. He was clutching his chosen seat with as much force as was dignified for one of his stature. He looked pretty peeved too.

"I didn't," Sprx shot back at him. He was too focused on not dying right now to be drawn into another contest of wills with the orange monkey.

"Can't you remember what buttons you pressed?" Sprx yelled at Otto again. His hull was pretty much charred by now which was very very bad because if he took another hit in the wrong place this ship was going down.

"Um, the one by the big red one," Otto told him. There was still a hint of doubt in his voice as to the correctness of this answer.

"Did you hit the black and yellow ones above it too?"

"Um... yes," this response was more sure.

Sprx began typing quicker and hitting the buttons a little harder than what was strictly necessary, but he knew what was wrong now. The green monkey had deactivated all safety mechanisms-which explained why none of the alarms had been blaring throughout this whole thing.

He was able to get the shields up just as another round of laser fire was unleashed upon his ship in rapid succession. Unfortunately now every alarm on the ship was screaming at him that everything was going wrong and that he was in deep trouble. As if he didn't already know...

"How's it comin'?" he hollered over the intercom system into the cargo area.

"Isn't there anything you can do about these blasted alarms?" Gibson's slightly muffled voice came back. "They have ruined my concentration."

"Sure I can, if we were in a nice empty zone and had a few minutes to fiddle with the command sequences. Which we don't. Hurry it up."

He ended the conversation before the blue monkey could squawk at him in indignation.

The said blue monkey did in fact squawk at him in indignation but went back to trying not to blow the ship up as he created the necessary chemical equation for their needs. Time was ticking mercilessly, and the alarms were screeching and blaring and throwing a series of red lights over his work which was hard to concentrate through.

He was interrupted again as the ship lurched at another sharp angle and he spilled almost a third of his composition.

"Some pilot, he can't even fly smoothly long enough for me to do what he asks," Gibson grumbled under his breath.

He gave out a shout of triumph when he succeed in creating the desired chemical.

"I've got it!" he shouted over the intercom.

"Great. Now grab onto something real good because I'm going to open the hatch," the voice on the other end informed him.

"Open the h-wha! You can't do that!"

"It's that or you can walk out and hand it to them yourself."

"Don't you have some sort of missile device that we can shoot them with?"

"Yep. But it's full of other experimental exploding chemicals. Not sure how good a scientist you are, but adding the one you have to the ones in there is _not _good. We're trying to stay alive, not blow ourselves up. Hang on."

Gibson attempted to rush over to the door. The hatch began to release before he'd made it though and the force of the vacuum of space began pulling him toward it instead. He redoubled his efforts. He managed to latch onto a few pipes jutting out from the wall and held on for dear life as everything that wasn't welded onto the ship was pulled toward and out the opening; the small crate he'd turned into his workbench with the vial resting serenely on top of it, included.

It was over a small eternity later and he wearily dropped his arms and fell against the wall panting.

As soon as he'd caught his breath and his heartbeat was semi-regular he made his way back to the cabin where the others where unbuckling themselves shakily from their seats. The stretched images of stars were flying past the view screen informing him that they had entered hyperspace.

"Nice job, blue," Sprx told him with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Nice job indeed. We wouldn't have been in that situation if it weren't for you," Mandarin turned toward Sprx; fury and ire were plainly written on his face.

"How was I supposed to know they'd ambush us?" Sprx shot back; he was clearly indignant about being the source of the problem.

"I'll ask one more time: _what _is your association with those deplorable miscreants?"

"They think I stole somethin' from 'um..." Sprx admitted weakly.

"Did you?" Otto asked.

"No!"

A few light-years away Lenny was looking out over what was left of some of the best bounty hunters known throughout the galaxies: mostly wreckage.

That explosion had decimated most of the ships that had been directly behind Sprx's vessel. Not many had come out of the remains.

"Oh _Sparky_," he muttered. "You've just bought yourself a whole new death warrant."

He flipped his attention to his view screen: "Hey boss, about that little problem..."


	5. Chapter 4

_A/N: This is Sniggy's favorite chapter so far. ;]_

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

_**"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature." - Helen Keller**_

* * *

Sunlight shimmered in the glass surfaces of the many tall buildings and pointy metal-plated spires. Speedy hover cars whizzed in and out between the higher level traffic lines in the air and slow high-tech airships bobbed gently on the warm currents between the many skyscrapers of Shuggazoom City.

In the midst of the technological-heavy metropolis, an idyllic oasis of green lawns and neatly planted flowerbeds gave room for obnoxiously blissful couples to sit around on chess-chequered picnic blankets and stare longingly into each other's eyes or for young children to carelessly throw Frisbees at each other's faces and their dog. Slacker teens and fat pigeons alike would slump around the large steel monument that dominated the view of the park, but which went otherwise unnoticed because of the already impressive height of the city skyline.

A sleek, crimson spacecraft of alien design broke through the orange cloud layer and merged dexterously with the afternoon traffic, zigzagging its way deeper into the City.

The ship - which had initially behaved itself very well - suddenly careened off course in a whiplash move that sent it all alarms blaring into the lush greenery of the central recreational area, digging up several cubic metres of fertile park soil and sloshing the previously so offensively harmonious Shuggazoomian Citizens with the muddy remains of the fuchsia and rhododendron arrangements.

The spacecraft laid dormant for a few moments before a hatch whipped open and the rainbow-coloured passengers piled out, all moaning in discomfort at the less-than-elegant landing.

"When I say: 'Otto, stay away from the landing thruster engines, I will need them to land with' it's because I _will_ need them. _To land with!_" Sprx growled at the guilty-looking Otto who was still walking funny from the impact.

"I'm sorry! But there were some really awesome-looking parts in there! I thought I coulda built some modifications to your ship – like, like—"

"If you suggest 'cup-holders' I'm going to hurl you right off the planet and let the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space finish what the bounty hunters couldn't," the wound up pilot exclaimed while inspecting the sad state of the paint job of his vessel. Long scratches revealed the dull metal underneath leaving the spaceship looking rather dishevelled. Sprx groaned and pinched the rim of his helmet. "Monkey-doodle..."

A green figure suddenly hunched beside him and peeked at the belly of the ship. "Oh, this doesn't look too bad."

"Yes it does," Sprx snarled.

Otto caressed the side of the ship, admiring the metallurgy the recent battle scars had uncovered. "This alloy is amazing – looks like mostly only paint came off. It just needs a few splotches of red and some other touch-ups and it'll be all dandy again!"

Sprx visibly mellowed at the praise given to his prized vessel. He bent over the enthralled mechanic to point out special places of interest. "It's a 57%-oronium and 43%-rhenion mix, which is mostly used on the larger Far-Range Offensive Annihilator crafts, but it does quite a wonder for aerodynamics since it's pretty light-weight compared to usual blends."

"So you can afford the weight to put more gadgets in there? Ohh, that's why you had those Frosted Dynamelter Drives in there – they're usually seen as dead-weight, but with this alloy..." Otto looked at the ship in awe as if he was in the company of some glorified pop-idol.

"Uh-huh, they really add extra thrust to the hyperdrive in a pinch," Sprx said proudly and petted the exterior like he would the head of his first-born son.

The green and red monkey continued to gibber technobabble while the others had huddled around Gibson and his handheld scanner.

"This supposed to be the place?" Nova asked sceptically. "It's a... park. There's nothing for us to do here besides picnic or feed birds." Her tone of voice indicated that she certainly hadn't come to do either option.

"According to the coordinates given to us by Master Zan, this is undeniably the correct location for whatever reason we were sent here," Gibson said and looked around, frowning.

Mandarin glared at a nearby girlfriend/boyfriend duo who sat watching the monkeys uneasily, guarding their picnic basket from the potentially snack-depleted cyborgs. "Where exactly do the coordinates direct to?"

Gibson pointed. The Team obediently ogled the direction of his finger.

A tall, clumsy-looking statue of extremely tetragonal design stood over-looking the park.

"What are we supposed to do with _that_?" Nova questioned.

"Perhaps there is more to that monument than meets the eye," Antauri said wisely and made to move closer to the would-be statue. Helen followed in close pursuit and Mandarin barked orders at Otto and Sprx who had been busy male-bonding over the pros and cons of internal combustion engines versus bacon rolls.

The Team paced to the feet of the gargantuan figure and then came to a hesitating halt, unsure of what to do next.

"...um. Is it supposed to _do_ something? Anything?"

"I do believe it is up to us to initiate any action here, Otto - nevertheless, I fail to comprehend _what_."

"Why don't we ask our glorious leader?" Sprx mumbled and squinted at Mandarin. "Or didn't your superior training prepare you for Close Encounters of the Ornamental Kind?"

Mandarin didn't even whip around to hiss at Sprx, but instead stayed stoically calm and said with a voice laden with icicles: "Perhaps your vast knowledge from being a professional waste of space shall prove the solution to this riddle. However, I myself remain highly dubious of that."

"You two knock it off!" Nova exclaimed from behind. "This alpha-male garbage isn't getting us anywhere."

"True. Either you do something besides getting us into fights with mercenary scum or you stay put," Mandarin growled harshly at Sprx, whose fur bristled in response.

"What? Do you expect me to just up and kick it like _this,_" he gave the side of the sculpture a solid wallop with his left foot, "and have a secret door suddenly ope- oh... would you look at that?"

A not-so-secret-anymore door flew open, the darkness inside containing the next step on their road to embracing their Fates as universal protectors.

~8~

The interior was dark and stale. They all cautiously crept inside though, huddling into an unconscious group. At the end of the hallway there were six coloured tubes-red, yellow, blue, orange, green, and black-which appeared to lead upwards.

The monkeys looked at each other expectantly, waiting for _someone _to dare to brave this unknown place.

Mandarin straightened his shoulders and held his head high as he finally marched toward the orange tube and stepped inside. He turned to look at the others with a "That wasn't so hard" stare but was shot up the tube in a cloud of dust.

The rest of the team looked on in horror for a moment.

"Mandarin!" Antauri called out; he raced over to the orange tube and peered up into it. He couldn't see the top.

"I'm fine!" the orange simian's voice called down. "It's some sort of elevator. I'm in the Command Center."

The rest of the group reluctantly began stepping into their own coloured tubes-except Helen; she stuck herself to Antauri's side and gave a little squeak of surprise when a blast of air shot up and a moment later they were all staring at a completely different room. This room was brightly lit with plain white walls and a large consul directly across from the tubes. Between the tubes and the consul were a rather large couch and six pod things that upon closer inspection turned out to be chairs.

"Wow," Sprx said.

"Yes, this is somewhat of a surprise. It's odd how this is all the exact size for us-and colour coordinated as well. Someone has obviously gone to great lengths to acquire such customized and advanced technology for us," Gibson said. He was looking over the control panel and trying to figure out what world this technology came from.

"Not all of us," Nova pointed out. She looked over at Helen who was still stuck very much to Antauri's side. "Why isn't there any white chair or tube?"

Helen looked surprised at being pointed out so, but cast Nova an embarrassed look as she answered: "I was not planned for, I suppose."

"Why not?"

"As I explained to the others when you and Mandarin were called back by Master Zan, I am not... one of you. I was not born or built this way-I am not in fact a Robot Monkey in anything other than outside appearance. My kind are shape shifters: we can rearrange our outer shells to whatever form we desire. I took on this particular form when I was... bonded with Antauri."

"Oh," Nova said; she couldn't really place the feeling of loss at that confession. "Why'd you come with us then?"

"It is my... duty to belong to Antauri."

"'_Belong to_' him? What are you talking about?"

"I am here to do as he wishes. I am to be anything he needs or desires."

A poignant silence enveloped the room at that as Nova seemed to begin shaking at that explanation. "_What_? So you're saying you're his-his servant?"

"If he wishes. However, he has freed me from such obligation and chooses to accept me as an equal."

"What if he changes his mind? What then? Are you just going to roll over and let him control you?"

"... yes. It is my duty."

"_To who?_"

"The Order. The Universe. The Power Primate. It is Fate's decision."

"What is _wrong_ with you? You are a fully competent sentient being! How can you just give up every right to some guy simply because you're told to? You deserve to do whatever you want to, whenever you want to-you are _not some object_ he can use for his own sick pleasures. Why would you submit to this?"

"I have told you-it is my duty. And Antauri has made it clear that he does perceive me as an equal and will not force me to do anything that I am uncomfortable with. I am closer to a wife than a servant. I am sorry that I cannot give you a satisfactory answer to your questions but this is my life and my duty and I shall see it through."

Nova stared at both Antauri and Helen in outraged disgust.

The rest of the guys had all busied themselves with scanning over the various controls, coincidentally drowning out the ensuing argument between the girls (which they knew would earn them no brownie points by participating in from the last time the subject of feminism had been brought into conversation around Nova). They had managed to get the view screen up and running (amazingly all the controls were almost tailored to their natural inclination of what they might do) and the scanners were all activated. The scanners seemed to be planet wide (and a fair distance into space) and picked up a lot of weird signals that none of the boys knew what meant.

A deafening alarm began to blare throughout the large (and now apparent _actual) _robot and the view screen flipped to show a large number of what appeared to be space crafts headed toward the little planet.

"What are those?" Otto asked.

"I think they're ships," Sprx answered; his radar system was more advanced and had clearer labels than this one but the shapes were almost identical to what he'd see when small crafts were approaching.

"A large armada of small crafts," Gibson elaborated. He was fascinated with this technology-it was almost archaic in style and yet it was surely highly developed to be able to detect such a threat from so far a range.

"What do we do?" Otto questioned looking over toward Mandarin.

"We fight them off, of course."

They all stared at the screen in silence for a moment; a heavy, solemn tension filled the room as they all contemplated what exactly this entailed.

"Uh, how?" Sprx broke the silence. "We don't have any idea how to work this thing and my ship is on the other side of the park. I doubt they'd all want to fight us hand-to-hand when they're at an obvious advantage in their ships."

"This vessel was tailored to us specifically-it will not be that hard," Mandarin replied confidently.

"Okay, look, I know you've been living on a hippy-trippy crystal planet all your life but you gotta know how difficult it is to adjust to something like this."

"Fate is on our side. We will not lose."

"I hate to break in, but I'm afraid Sprx is right. We cannot just jump into battle pressing random buttons-it's illogical, not to mention extremely dangerous," Gibson said. "We don't even know if this thing _has _any weapons, let alone where they are or what they do. Plus, we have to look out for all the innocent people who are down there-they don't know what's going on"

"I'm afraid that there is no more time for debate," Antauri spoke up. "The ships are breaching the stratosphere."

"Right then, everyone: to your stations," Mandarin commanded and ran over to the orange tube once again.

The remaining members watched him shoot up again before turning back to the screen.

"There really isn't much of a choice, is there?" Gibson asked.

"Nope. Come on, lets go see if this hunk of metal is worth all the trouble we've had," Nova took off toward her own tube.

"Uh, where's Hel here gonna go?" Sprx asked, indicating the white female.

"I suppose I can remain here," she said and sat down in the black colored pod-seat.

"Are you certain?" Antauri asked her.

"Yes," she said; her tone conveyed the exact opposite of her answer.

"Be sure and buckle up. Pro'ly gonna be a bumpy ride," Otto chimed in.

She nodded in understanding. Antauri gave her one final look before following his leader's example and shooting up his own tube.

The rest followed suite.

They were each dropped off in a small drivers compartment filled with many buttons and levers. The controls immediately started up and their view screens showed exactly where they had ended up in the Robot.

"Now what?" Nova asked over the open channel.

"These controls are _weird_," Sprx commented.

"Indeed, they are of a peculiar make," Gibson said.

"Be quiet all of you," Mandarin called out. He was focusing on the view screen which was showing the small legion of heavily armed ships descending further toward their location. A stream of missiles was suddenly unleashed toward the sky.

"Oops..." Otto's voice rang out over the intercom.

"What did you do?" Mandarin demanded.

"I just...pushed a button," Otto admitted.

"Which button?"

"The one that looks like a clown's nose."

"You mean the one next to the blinking switches?" Nova asked.

"Yeah..."

"I see no such buttons or switches," Mandarin informed them irritably.

"I believe we all have different controls," Gibson stated. "Sprx, do you have a large view screen with something like an Aldebaran style switchboard?"

"Um, yeah.""I have a similar style of controls," Antauri said.

"Yes, I see. It appears that our controls all coordinate with our placement and I assume function aboard this vessel. Fascinating. This mechanism might suggest that we have the ability to bisect or possibly even retain a certain level of autonomy among us-"

"I hate to interrupt your lecture, _professor_, but we need to figure out how this thing works. _Now_," Sprx said just as the first of the ships broke through the clouds and began filling the skyline.

"That's weird," Otto said.

"What is?" Mandarin asked.

"The clouds. They just darkened-it's like they _know _something bad's going to happen."

"I'm sure it's from the number of ships behind them restricting the amount of light waves from reaching the surfa-"Gibson was interrupted once again as Sprx let out a shocked cry filled with pain.

_"They just bombed my ship!" _

Indeed - the tattered, but otherwise once functioning spacecraft was now reduced to teeny tiny burning bits and pieces of debris scattered all over the scenery. A small group of bounty hunter ships were hovering proudly around the wreckage, scanning the foliage for any moving targets such as survivors and/or squirrels.

The easily recognizable ship belonging to Lenny the slug mercenary loomed in the horizon and had an air of self-satisfied smugness about it (if such could be attributed to an inanimate object).

Otto somehow managed to flick on the outer cameras and processed the damage. "Uh... Sorry Sprx. It'll need a li'l more fine-tuning than a paintjob can fix, I think."

"_My ship!_" Sprx wailed.

"Really, Sprx, we have far more pressing concerns," Gibson's level voice sounded over the intercom. "Until we can figure out the exact workings of this automaton, I suggest we keep a low profile."

Sprx ripped the first thing he saw resembling a microphone off the cockpit interior and roared into the open line: "LENNY YOU SLITHERING SLICE OF SNOT I'M GOING TO TOSS YOU INTO THE ENDLESS SALT MINES FOR THIS!"

"... or we can go with boisterous verbal abuse." Gibson facepalmed in his partition of the Robot, dearly hoping this wouldn't be a demonstration of their future modus operandi as a Team.

"I told you to _stay put_!" Mandarin hissed and tightened his grasp on the joysticks.

"SOD THAT." The incensed pilot violently seized his controls and shoved the control sticks forward, resulting in the right hand of the Robot shooting into the ground and pounding several acres of shrubbery and bounty hunter ships into a bizarre, disfigured paste of whimpers and fertilizer.

The impact had all of the occupants of the Robots shaking. A faint groan was heard over the intercom. "... shoulda thought that through... owwww..."

The open line buzzed as somebody frantically tuned into the frequency: "Sprx? You're still alive - oh wait of course you are – cosmic zits like you always make things more complicated than they have to be," Lenny's voice grumbled in all of the cockpits. "I guess me and my little improvised army of criminally insane playmates will just have to obliterate everything that moves and several other things that don't. Y'know – for good measure. Start wrecking, boys!"

The hunter ships split off into groups to form several attack formations and opened fire, shooting indiscriminatly at everything and everybody in near range of the Robot. The panicked outcries of the Citizens reached the ears of the Monkey Team through the outer auditory receptors of the Robot.

"Those creeps are _begging_ for a throughout butt-kicking!" Nova raged and started hammering on the knobs and buttons of her console.

"Yeah! Let's show them what's what!" Otto chimed in and flailed his arms around, flicking as many lights on as he could in the four seconds that passed before gears started whirring and the Robot set in motion.

The Robot made to move forward - and unfortunately also backwards – at the same time, resulting in the large machine spinning around in a weird ballerina move and smashing back-first into the shopping district of Shuggazoom City.

"... at this rate we're going to be the biggest threat to the City, aren't we?" Otto moaned and tried to dislocate his leg from his armpit.

"_Everybody SHUT UP!_" Mandarin bellowed over the intercom, not at all caring about dignity or grace or any such lark that really wasn't important when you had a fleet of hostile aircrafts zooming in to joyfully leave a smoking crater of you and your Team. "And for the love of life - _stop mashing buttons randomly!"_ he yelled and slammed down on one very particular switch.

A low _hummmm_ of the insanely ominous sort reverberated through the Robot; the kind of sound that forewarns the build-up of an event of potentially spectacular deadliness and destruction. Small glows shimmered on the belly of the Robot and suddenly the whole facade was brightly illuminated in a brilliantly lethal display of compressed light and energy, firing off into the sky, toasting one fourth of the bounty hunter armada and hundreds of flocking geese to a tasty crisp.

There was the tensest of silences as spacecrafts and dead birds alike fell to the ground, the only sound heard from the smoke-billowing victims resembling that of the muffled hiss of a fizzy soda drink.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"_Everybody start mashing buttons randomly!"_

Clicking and clacking was heard as all six drivers started thrashing around, anxious to get the Robot up in position, or at least make the spaceships that were buzzing around like angry laser-equipped bees go away.

"Can we do that again? Can we can we can we can we—" Otto went on in a mix of sheer retarded glee and anxiety as he tried but failed to locate buttons that would unleash more shiny beamy doom.

"I wager that an attack of such magnitude would need time to reload," Gibson called out over the intercom.

"There's still like two hundred of them out there!" Nova gasped in frustration as the Foot Crusher Cruiser 6 took a hit. She flicked a series of switches; hoping one of them would activate some sort of automatic defence system. It instead initiated a sprinkler system which showered the cowering Citizens and flowerbeds in gallons of water. The golden warrior knocked her head against the console which in turn triggered the blinker lights.

A group of smaller ships sped towards the Brain Scrambler Pilot 2, assuming it a weak point. Antauri dutifully followed the button-mashing technique that seemed to have become be par for the course at this point. He stretched out his arms and simultaneously brought down his hands on two separate buttons.

First, the eyes of the Robot started shimmering. Then the windscreen wipers started to frantically whip over the surface of the Robot's eyes. Then the lasers emitting from the eyes ripped off the wipers, which shot off at high velocity, impaling the front of one unfortunate bounty hunter ship. The ship spiralled to the ground, destroyed by the projectile cleansing device and the pilot gargling death threats to Fate who today was feeling particularly fond of sadistic humour not in his favour.

The Robot slowly brought itself to its knees, shaking from the ongoing assault of the mercenary army. Sprx gripped his joysticks again and whacked off three ships with the back of the Robot's hand.

Suddenly, the Robot decided to up and fall apart. The Torso Tank 1 slammed to the ground, the Fist Rockets dislodged and the Brain Scrambler sped off into the air.

"Halp!" Otto squeaked. "I'm all alone!"

"What the doodle?" Nova shouted. "Who touched something stupid now?"

"Nevermind that," Antauri said sternly; eyes on the hostile prize that was closing in fast. "Disperse and attack!"

On the ground, the feet and torso of the Robot scrambled about, busy avoiding the lasers and spewing forth rows upon rows of missiles into the air. A cluster bomb hit the ground near Nova's Foot Crusher Cruiser and sent her swerving around a fountain with a statue of a dolphin. "Use the targeting system Otto!" she yelled.

"Sorreeee!"

In the air, Sprx was having issues with his back-up as well.

"Hal - Start being useful and cover my back!" Sprx hollered and manoeuvred out of the vice-grip technique the bounty hunters had tried to lock him into. They were especially aggressive towards the vehicle inhabited by the red pilot.

"Having trouble, are we?" Lenny sneered over the open line.

"Hardly," Sprx retorted angrily. "These guys can't pilot for nothing. Where did you pick up these duds?"

A maniacal voice screeched through the open line: "Crispyyyyy! I'll avenge you my brother, or my name isn't Soggy the Wetter of Undergarments. I'll avenge youuuuuuuu!" The voice trailed off into hysterical cackles and promises of squelchy calamity.

"... he's on for a trial period," Lenny mumbled and fired more laser-y doom to mask his embarrassment.

Sprx zigzagged out of the way before crashing into the pillars of the bridge. The ships that had foolishly followed him too closely smashed against the structure into itty-bitty pieces of stupid. "Riiiight. And where did you get _those_ idiots?"

"There was a discount okay? I pretty much had to scrape the bottom, thanks to our earlier rendezvous."

"Oh please, scraping the bottom is Zaaba's standard method of hiring."

"You would know," Lenny grinned and sent messages for back-up. A formation of ships stopped harassing the Torso Tank 1 and instead targeted Sprx, who was suddenly grossly overwhelmed.

"Hal! Back-up! Whenever you're ready!" Sprx yelled.

"But I—I— am not trained for this!" a very shrill, very _female_ voice replied.

"... errr, Hal? Did you neglect to mention something?" Sprx asked warily. "'Cause I coulda sworn you were a guy."

"What are you babbling about?" Gibson asked irritably.

"Oh—I—I was sure this form was female." Helen idly wondered if this explained Antauri's initial apprehension.

"Get off the line _Helen_!" Mandarin snapped.

"But Sprx said—"

"I did what now?"

"What are you all talking about?" Gibson yelled.

The red monkey grabbed his helmet and shook his head in frustration. "You! _Gibson_! Mister Compensates With Big Words! Get yer tail over here!" Sprx screamed; now in desperate need for support as the enemy started to swamp him.

"Oh!" Gibson swooped in and popped off another group of ships, thus giving Sprx the opportunity he needed to fly off and deploy his own wave of missiles.

Unfortunately for the bounty hunter armada, the cyborg monkeys quickly got into the swing of things, and such the park slowly filled with burning enemy debris and escape pods. Lenny saw his once bloodthirsty army quickly dissipate into a few measly ships – and decided to do a runner. But first...: "You think this is over _Sparky?_ Just because you got a new toy doesn't mean I'm gonna forget this! It's _not_ over!" Lenny's ship sped off into the atmosphere while the slug mercenary laughed evilly.

Nova rolled her eyes at the self-righteous speech and fired a few well-aimed laser blasts. The ship burst in a pretty explosion and that was the end of Lenny.

"Hopefully that's over and done with! Good riddance!" Gibson exclaimed and let his Fist Rocket hover to the ground.

~8~

Getting the Robot back into Machinder Mode didn't prove too much of a problem – mostly careful maneuvering and a few tries. Otto looked over the damages to the Robot, drooling over the build and technology and basically making a big sappy fuss over his new best friend in the whole world. While the mechanic did so the rest decided to regroup in the Command Center.

Antauri entered first with Mandarin and immediately ran to Helen, who was curled up and scared stiff in a ball chair while gripping the edges of her seat with such strength that subtle dents had been left. The disposition of her fur gave the impression that she'd been through a tumble dryer going a few thousand rounds per hour.

Antauri knelt down in front of the white monkey and lightly dislodged her death-grip on the chair. "... Helen?"

Her eyes, which had previously been a sick, yellow colour, blinked a few times and returned to their normal blackness. She drowsily fixated a blank stare on her mate. "... I... would like to remind you of my Vow of Pacifism and... kindly request to never ever participate in battles again... ever."

Antauri sighed and clasped her hand, reassured when she seemed to be recovering from her violence-induced stupor. "Of course, Helen."

Mandarin, who had been hanging over the main computer in the background, snorted at this display. Before he could get to further voice his dismay another object of his dissatisfaction entered the room.

"... yeah I'll miss the old ship, but these new... ones... uh." Sprx trailed off when he caught the downright murderous look on his leader's face.

The orange monkey stalked to the red and stuck his face a bit too far into the other's personal space bubble. "We are supposed to _defend_ this planet! Not be the _origin_ of its plight!" It was quite clear _what_ he blamed _who_ for. It was also quite clear that any 'funny' answer would end with Sprx' pelt in front of somebody's fireplace.

Sprx shot a glance at Antauri who was busy fretting over Helen.

Surprisingly, maybe, Gibson spoke up: "This recent scuffle has been rather unfortunate - I agree - but we can hardly place _all_ the blame on Sprx. Most of it, but not _all_."

"Gee, I feel so loved."

Mandarin didn't answer at first – varying grades of anger and violent intentions flashed over his face but eventually it settled on a disgruntled frown.

"You will do well to stay in line from now on Sprx. I do not want to ever have to deal with any more surprise visits from your suspicious acquaintances. Is that clear?"

"No more dealing with shady characters of the past. Got it."

"I suppose now is just as good as any to begin a proper expedition of this vehicle?" Gibson inquired. The others all looked at each other before nodding in agreement and began their first real look at the Robot.

They discovered it was basically a house that could walk and shoot lasers and fly. And it was all tailored to their specific construction.

Once they had gotten the general layout of the place Nova pulled Sprx aside while the rest went on exploring of their new "home."

~8~

"Look," she said firmly. "I just wanted to apologize for my actions. I shouldn't have hit you like that back on Paralladol."

He regarded her guardedly for a moment before smirking derogatorily: "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I've taken _way _harder hits than that."

Nova's eyes widened. "Oh really?" she challenged.

"Yep. So don't you worry your pretty little blonde tail about it. But if you like, I can blow in your ear and make you forget it ever happened."

"You miserable little cretin! What is your problem? I'm trying to be the bigger person here and all you can do is make stupid comments. We'll see if I ever make the mistake of apologizing to you again!"

"Whatever, babe. You can hit me as much as you want but I'll always be the bigger person because I can let things go."

Nova was far too gone to recall that she was supposed to work on not unleashing her anger. She reared back and hit him again clean across the face.

An audible _pop _was heard as Sprx's jaw was dislocated.

Nova was once again horrified at what her action hath rot but she felt less guilty this time around at actually hitting him. She dutifully took him to the Med Bay and went to get Gibson and let him in on what had occurred.

She was resolved not to apologize to the creep though. He'd definitely deserved that one-especially since it hadn't been as hard as the first hit.

~8~

Outside the once-thought-to-be-a-statue Robot a small chittering creature was overlooking the park that had once been very nice but was now covered in debris, crisped body parts, and upturned earth.

The Robot itself was up right and looking as gracefully statuary as it always had but there was definitely a certain air of activity to it now.

Through the creatures eyes a more menacing being saw the events of the day-including the graceless arrival of seven robotic monkeys.

"So, you've returned..." the gravelly voice spoke. His tone was not displeased, but it had a certain ominous quality to it. "It seems you've not completely failed yet..."

"_Don't underestimate them_," another voice said-one you could only hear if you were either dead or the dark being he was conversing with.

"I know all your tricks," the dark being said. "I was there, I have _your _memories. I know what to do with them."

The other voice remained silent at this. He knew these facts were true, and yet he also knew something that the other being could never understand: as long as there are some people who seek out good, evil could never triumph.

"And once your world falls...the universe shall follow at my feet."

A cackling of villainous proportions rang out from the singular skeletal being as he dismissed the image of the Super Robot from the crystal inside his staff.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Heh. I got no excuse. This has been done forever. Here ya go.

* * *

_**Chapter 5**_

* * *

"_Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation..."_ - Oscar Wilde

* * *

The yellow monkey had holed herself up in the training room once it had been discovered and frankly the others were getting a little angsty about it. It was a little obsessive.

The black monkey watched her from the entryway as she jumped and dodged and punched at the simulations and various weapons threatening to tear her apart. She gracefully destroyed them all.

When she was done she acknowledged him with a small nod-and an annoyed frown.

"Would you care for a partner?" Antauri asked.

"Sure," Nova said curtly. She deactivated all the mechanized opponents before turning to face him.

They began in the middle of the room, hand to hand, weaponless.

"Why're you here?" she asked. He took a swipe at her face causing her to duck to the left where he attempted to knee her.

"I believe there are some things that need to be cleared up," he told her. She dodged his attack by punching him in the stomach and knocking the wind from him.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" She continued her attack by trying to pull his feet from under him.

"First," he said once he had his breath back. He managed to jump away from her attack and charged at her. They both collided into a rolling tangle of close range hits and kicks. "I want to be clear that you are invaluable to this Team. We need someone with your fighting expertise."

They dislodged. They stared at each other panting for a moment before resuming their push and pull battle.

"Second, I want to be clear that Helen is not my 'slave' as you called her and I would _never _force another being to do anything they did not wish to. You are right: she is a perfectly competent and sentient being and therefore has every right to decide her own lifepath. She _chose _to come with me on mine."

They were both covered in assorted bruises and scratches now. Transformers were activated and they resumed once again.

No other words were spoken until they realized their even match up.

"So what? That doesn't excuse the fact that that's what she's _supposed _to be." Nova told him. She helped him off the floor regardless.

"But it's not what she _is_. We are all supposed to be many things, and yet we defy those constraints everyday. For example: many would say that as a female you are supposed to be calm and demure; however, you are not. You are a skilled fighter and an extroverted individual."

"Fine. I see your point. Just answer me this: why did you take her if you knew that's what her purpose was?"

"I... was not aware of her purpose until she actually arrived and explained it to me. Once I found out, we agreed that a mutual companionship would be beneficial and we have allowed our relationship to grow as such."

Nova gave him a hard stare. She was scrutinizing his posture for any hint of dishonesty-she doubted she'd _ever _find any such thing in his body or soul; he was _too _good.

She finally nodded and stretched out her hand toward him.

He smiled at her before accepting her proffered hand and shaking it.

She smiled for the first time since she'd joined these new wackos of a team.

* * *

Helen had discovered the kitchen. She had taken to it with as much enthusiasm as Nova to the training room.

"Wow, they really trained you to be the perfect little wife at that monastery," the red monkey commented from the doorway.

She glanced up at him before turning back to intently focus on her cooking.

"Surprising, really," he went on. He had come in and slouched against the table. "You'd think that a place like that would be completely against 'pleasures of the flesh' and all that stuff."

"Can I help you with something?" she finally asked.

"I'm just trying to understand what all this is about."

"You'd have to ask Antauri or Mandarin about that. I'm merely here as Antauri's companion."

"But you gotta know. Weren't you brought up by the same people?"

"... Technically, you could perceive it that way."

"What, did they forget to mention the mission to you?"

"No... No I _know _why we're doing this. I simply... do not know why here, or why now."

"Fine: new subject. You said you were a shape shifter? What kind?"

"... I do not think it really matters."

"It doesn't have to matter-we're just _talking_."

She stopped her culinary activities to fully turn around and look at him. She admitted to herself that she was... distraught about so many males around had had very limited interaction with the male species since she'd chosen a feminine lifestyle and joined the Verans. In fact, Antauri and Mandarin were pretty much her range of expertise. And neither one of them were quite normal she was deducing from the way the others were acting around her. Yes, Sprx had made it known that he traveled around a lot and liked to have good time within the few days that they had all known each other, but was it really normal to be so interested in one as insignificant as herself? The fate of the universe was always pressing on them...

"How about a game?" His question snapped her out of her musings. She refocused her attention outwards.

"What?"

"A game. They have games on the crystal-hugging planet of yours, right?"

"... Not really."

"Well, this one is easy. I'll ask you a yes or no question and try to guess where your from. 'Kay?"

"Very well," she was really beginning to wonder what the point of all this was.

"All right. So, is it in the Ethivion region?"

"No."

"You're very quiet, you know that? You're not going to get in trouble for talking are you?"

"I apologize. I shall endeavour to articulate better."

"Only yes or no answers remember?" The pilot smirked at her.

She was becoming a bit flustered. What would knowing more about her do? She was not a true member of this team and she could hardly give him any more information that what Master Zan had told them back on Paralladol. And yet his aura was very relaxed and non-confrontational. It was almost as soothing as Antarui's-but it was different; very very different.

"Okay, next question: how about the Pelesius region? Is it there?"

"Yes," her voice was becoming more confident.

"'The world of a thousand faces. Where you'll never see the same one twice,'" Sprx quoted the mantra of her home world. She was truly surprised he had guessed it so quickly. "Also known as Corarnona."

"Yes. Have you neen there before?"

"You betcha. You guys have some weird hunting parties. At least I know not to get on your bad side now; in case you ever decide to come at me and simultaneously suffocate and slurp out my insides."

"I'm afraid I have given up such... barbaric practices."

"Why?"

"On Paralladol we are taught to appreciate all life; to respect everything's right to live just as much as ourselves. So much so, that we give up meat in our diet."

"Of course you cosmic-hippies would be veg-heads. I shoulda known."

"I do not mind preparing meals with meat in them, if that is your concern."

"Uh... you know you don't _have _to cook for all of us. I'm a pretty decent chef if I do say so myself."

"And do you?"

"I do."

She was getting the hang of this conversation thing. She had to admit that Sprx was a much better conversationalist that Antauri-not that there was anything wrong with that. He had lived his whole life in almost complete solitude; some skills are bound to be ignored.

"Sorry for the interruption," Gibson told the couple. He was standing just outside the entryway. "But I was wondering if... That is to say whether or not I might-um. Well, you know back on Paralladol when I mentioned-Oh dear."

"Spit it out, Gibson," Sprx told him.

"Well you know back when I... made the mention of-um... _examining _Helen? I was wondering if she wouldn't mind-for scientific purposes only. I would simply need to take a small sample of your genetic code in several different forms-to compare the molecular structure and chromosomal alignment, you see?"

"I suppose I can assist you in your research, Mr. Gibson," the white monkey told him with a small smile.

"Now don't let him take advantage of you, sweetheart," Sprx called after the two. He walked over to Helen's cooking and picked up where she left off. He really was a good cook.

* * *

Gibson had Helen sit down on one of the many examination beds throughout the Med Bay. He had claimed this room as perfect for all his "scientific" needs and thrown all his miscellaneous paperwork and science apparatus in here. Helen wasn't even sure if he'd claimed an actual bedroom yet. The place looked completely lived in.

"Now I hope you don't mind but I'll need you to transform into your true form for my control sample," he turned toward her with a large needle. That serious and manic gleam was back in his eyes.

"Of course..." she looked at him cautiously before slowly morphing herself back to her true shape. Had it always been so _cold _in here? She felt a little naked without the fur now. At least in the Temple she had had the traditional robes, but she'd had to give those back before they left.

The procedure didn't really hurt-her nervous system was overly desensitized in this form. And he took several x-ray shots and various other samples of her tissue before he had her change again and repeat the process over again... and again... and again...

She had studied medicine herself, but even this level of testing seemed over the top.

"Can we stop?" she requested after the fifth procedure.

"Oh! Well, I suppose I have enough..." the blue monkey looked mournfully at the samples he had taken as if they were very few in comparison to what he needed.

"Could you answer some more questions for me though?"

"Yes," her shape returned back to the white robot monkey as she answered; strangely her voice did not change.

"How aware are you of the transformation?"

"... I control it. I think of the form I wish to be in and I may body complies."

"Yes, yes, but how aware of the _actual _transformation are you? Do you _feel _it?"

"... To a certain degree. My true form is very... desensitized and so I do not feel as much physically in it. As I change so does my nervous system to the type of species I become."

"Fascinating," the scientist had gotten out a clipboard from somewhere and was jotting things down at a frightening speed. "What about molecularly? Do you feel your cells change as well?"

"... No. Do you feel it when your cells multiply and die?"

"I suppose not. So you acquire the exact nervous and organic systems as the species you turn into. How do you know what kind of systems they have?"

"I don't. Not really. It just... happens."

"So you don't have to think about all the little details and changes? They just occur naturally?"

"... Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"All right," he didn't sound completely convinced on this subject and made several more notes while glancing up at her speculatively. "What about reproduction? If you acquire all the systems of the chosen species does that mean that you can create a pure lifeform of that species?"

"... No. That is one thing that we are not capable of. We can have the system for it, but we cannot procreate another being of that species. In fact, we don't really 'procreate' at all."

"What do you mean?"

"We are... asexual. We can chose either a more male or more female lifestyle and body structure, but when we are in our true forms we can basically break off a small part of ourselves and create another being biologically identical to us who can then choose what sexuality and personality they desire."

Gibson was simply staring at her now, his eyes wide with awe.

"If there's anything else...?" she inquired after a moment. His stare was becoming disconcerting.

He remained frozen in wonder, not saying anything.

She slowly got off the table, staring at him in cautious fear, and began backing out of the lab.

She ran (quite literally) into Antauri when she left. (That had more to do with the fact that she was walking backwards and he was staring at her in confusion and not moving than anything else.)

"Are you all right?" he asked her. she had an almost haunted look on her face.

"Yes... I was just getting to know the team more." He nodded in understanding and let her go back to the kitchen-where Sprx had pretty much finished making the meal.

* * *

Mandarin called a 'Team Meeting.' There was certain 'business' they all had to go over and it had to be discussed _now_.

Everyone had congregated to the Control Center (which was quickly becoming the Common Center) and was awaiting further theatrics from the 'Leader' to get this meeting started.

They were not disappointed.

"Silence!" his voice rang out. "Now, I've called all of you here so that we may begin to organize and develop tactics for our job."

"What kind of tactics?" Otto called out. He was still happy as a cl-as a kitten with it's own ball of yarn. He was covered in grease and his fur was singed and he looked a little rabid (he hadn't eaten in a few days).

"We need to develop stratagems based off all our particular skills and abilities. Attack formations must be created and learned and we also need more practice at the controls of this vessel."

"The Super Robot."

"What?" Everyone looked at Otto in confusion.

"Its name. It's called the Super Robot."

"... Okay. And how do you know that?" Sprx asked. He wasn't really surprised that the ship had a name (all ships did) but he didn't really see how the mechanic could have figured it out since he had basically been crawling through the walls for the last few days.

"It said so on the mainframe."

"All right..." Mandarin let it go for now. There were _a lot_ worse names the mechanic could have come up with for the thing and it really didn't matter in the long run anyway. "Anyway, as I said, we need to begin planning and training in attack formations. We are going to come up with a schedule for training."

Most of the assembled crowd groaned at those words. They didn't really do well with schedules.

* * *

They _really _didn't do well with schedules.

While three out of seven people is not the majority by any numeric system, this was a team, not a democracy. That means there must be leaders that the rest follow. So the schedule remained despite everyone's protest and obvious resentment. They seemed too thrown off by actually having a schedule to do anything but blindly follow it anyway.

The training was harder than they had expected, obviously, but they needed it badly. Not only as a team either-most of them had never had any formal training in anything that would be useful to their superheroics.

This was going to be _a lot_ harder than expected.

It was a wonder they had all lasted this long. Fate must really be on their side for them to have only gotten off with a few minor injuries during their battles against the onslaught of monsters they faced regularly.

How in the stars had this planet lasted this long without some kind of defender? With that question came many more, such as: was all this even worth it? and for that matter, what is 'it'?

Trick questions with no answers. How appropriate.

"Tell me, Nova," the orange leader called out from the control booth of the Training Room. "Why do you persist in staying with us?"

Another trick question. "The same reason as you: I made a commitment to my Master and I will not go back on it."

Why would that be important anyway? There wasn't much else that could keep her anywhere...

* * *

Train, argue, fight giant rat monster, argue, train, fight enormous mutated locust, argue, argue, train, fight swarm of flying flesh-eating primroses, train, argue.

The days seemed to blur and were only separated into blocks of being awake and being unconscious, and Otto could only tell those two apart by the little time he spent in the sleeping chamber. The green cyborg hung upside down, awake in his tube, staring into his own reflection of the glass and pretending he was only insomniac because he couldn't decide on a colour for the seats on the snow buggy he wanted to build.

Red, blue, green, don't argue, blue, lavender, don't argue, red, red, blue, orange, why couldn't they just be friends and pound monsters and have adventures? Why was it so hard to just get along? Red, blue, green, blue. Maybe orange and yellow.

Maybe tomorrow it would be better. Maybe after the next monster battle they'd all see that they could be one big mutant-killing, monster-bashing, mecha-operating, crime-fighting family. All you needed was the right mindset. And lotsa missiles.

It was almost midnight before he finally dozed off.

* * *

It was Meditation Hour, or at least it would have been if they were still on Paralladol. As it was, it was simply an hour every morning they both set aside to quietly center themselves in preparation for the day.

It was honestly Helen's favourite time of the day: a solid hour of nothing but silence and the serene aura of her mate.

Antauri enjoyed it for similar reasons. They may have gotten off to a rocky start but now they were each other's haven in this time of chaotic change. Having a stable presence in these times was crucial to his sanity. Although if he could be truly honest he wished she wouldn't cling so much-it distracted him.

And there were plenty of other things he needed to focus on. Keeping the peace, for instance.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep everyone on good terms with each other; the animosity was staggering. If he didn't have such strong faith in the Power Primate he didn't think he'd be able to handle it.

He did though, and rightfully so. The Power Primate was amazing. He could never get enough. Many he had met had commented on his calm and impassive personality, but that wasn't quite true. He was utterly crazed over the Power Primate; he could never get enough. He pursued its depths with a passion so overwhelming that he simply had very little left for anything else (and really in comparison what else was there to be so enthusiastic about?).

It was his life.

That it called for him to risk losing his life for it was no trouble. He was truly happy to comply.

He cherished it so much that he wanted to share it with the whole Universe-

"Helen?" the black cyborg opened his eyes and turned to face the white monkey on his right.

"Yes?" She had a pleasant smile on her muzzle-one he very rarely ever saw-and was looking nothing short of joyful.

"What do you think about me teaching the others about the Power Primate?"

She opened her eyes and stared back at him; happiness was just behind her ocular lenses. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

He really did thank the Order for her.

* * *

Gibson stalked the halls of the Super Robot for the origin of a distant scuffle.

He still hadn't quite remembered the layout of their new home (it might have to do with the fact he kept walking around with his muzzle in his notes) and finding the training area on time was still a struggle. Fortunately, the two most aggressive members were currently scheduled to bonk their fists together and the thuds the encounters created made for a sufficient guide to his goal.

At least all this training was good for that, if nothing else.

He quite understood the reasoning behind the want to have all members of the Team become capable combatants – but really, hadn't he made it wholly clear that he was a scientist, a researcher? That his role on the team mainly should be as such? All of this running wildly around and whacking and bobbing stuff about brought him no little amount of frustration – it distracted from his studies and findings.

As the bangs and bumps grew progressively in strength and clarity, the simian cyborg found himself outside his desired location and thusly entered.

Mechanical arms and appendages alike flailed around the room in order to strike the orange and yellow warriors who were battling each other as well as the hostile surroundings. Gibson disinterestedly watched them jump and struggle and hurl each other through the room around for a good long while before he walked to the control console and made an end to all the violent merrymaking.

"Sorry to interrupt your session, but I believe you wanted me to seek you out at this hour," Gibson said to Mandarin who meticulously adjusted his misaligned armour and walked towards the door with the blue scientist in tow.

"Correct. You said you had produced some interesting results."

"From investigating the leftovers of the recent battles, yes. I must say, it's quite extraordinary how often such a diminutive planet is under siege."

"Perhaps your findings will provide further insight..."

As the two disappeared into the confines of the Robot, Nova was left to her own devices.

For forty minutes straight she had clashed relentlessly with the orange cyborg. Her fur was sweaty, her metal parts radiated heat from being overworked so, her stressed muscles screamed bloody murder and her back ached something fierce and yet she yearned to leap up and engage in more straining physical activity. Because there was restlessness inside her; an internal heap of sizzling coals that threatened to light ablaze and eat her up if she wasn't quick to move about and put it out.

She needed to think. And while she usually felt it easier to let her mind wander while her fists were occupied and her body in motion, this time she felt she needed to go about this in a more cautious, calm fashion for once.

Master Offay had let her know that this was what she had trained for all her life.

Master Zan had let her know that this was her Fate to share with the others.

Protecting the Universe was indeed a glorious task – the most worthy case of all. But so far they hadn't even gotten off this one planet – Shuggazoom.

It was like pushing the boulder up the mountain, only to have it fall to the bottom before they could get out into the big world and right injustices. Instead of on a mountain, it was a city full of people too busy frolicking and eating ice-cream instead of whipping up some sort of anti-aircraft weaponry or at the very least a dozen tanks to defend themselves with; and instead of a boulder, it was a giant robot full of control-freaks and lazy crazies and medieval ideas about marriage.

So not really so much like pushing a boulder up a mountain.

Master Offay had always told her that she had a strong will. Actually, he'd said that it wasn't so much her will that was strong, but that everything else wrinkled up in fear when confronted with it. Her will was strong. She would make sure to become this Universal protector in any way possible.

* * *

The white monkey sighed.

In her hands rested a teacup full of cold tea. It should have been emptied by now and should have been emptied by Antauri. Who wasn't there, but was attempting to instruct Gibson in the Power Primate; a venture that proved not so much difficult as it was 'slam-your-own-head-against-the-wall-until- it-leaves-dents'-frustrating since the blue scientist kept measuring for hidden magnetic fields and searching the air for strings every time Antauri showed him the meditative floating technique.

And meanwhile, the tea got cold.

It wasn't that he had forgotten or broken a promise, because he hadn't and there was no promise to be broken. He had just prioritised and decided afternoon tea had to wait. She picked up her own, empty teacup and nudged the porcelain ear restlessly.

She sighed again - just to hear a noise. No matter how much racket Otto made scrambling about in the inner workings of the Super Robot, no matter how many times Mandarin and Sprx argued over piloting techniques, no matter how ferociously Nova punched the walls while training, no matter how many glass beakers shattered in Gibson's laboratory the quietude in her and Antauri's room would always be present.

She could always hide in here, under a soft security blanket of silence and pretend.

She could pretend that she didn't see the dirty looks Nova still sent her when Helen retreated to the kitchen. She could pretend that the reason Sprx hadn't visited her in the kitchen for so long wasn't because Mandarin consciously kept scheduling the pilot for extra training in an effort to isolate her. She could pretend that Otto hadn't assimilated his morning meal into a prototype bio-battery for his night lamp. And most of all she could pretend Gibson had not complimented her 'marvellously curvaceous genomes.'

Helen let loose a third, exasperated sigh.

"You sound troubled."

Helen looked over her shoulder into two olive ocular orbs. They trailed down to the empty and full teacups in her paws and immediately shaded over with guilt.

"I apologize, Helen, I –"

Helen patted his hand and stood up. "I was just lost in my thoughts - you have nothing to apologize for. I take it Gibson is having trouble accepting the idea of the Power Primate?"

"You could say that..." Antauri's eyes again fell on the teacups.

Helen smiled warmly at him and caught his stare. "You are doing your duty, and that makes you happy. I as well am joyful doing mine. The two may not always overlap, but we will both go on as always."

They smiled contentedly at each other before Helen left to do her washing-up and Antauri to discuss tactics with Mandarin. The following day, the tea got cold, as it did the next and the day after. Antauri would keep on apologizing, but Helen would carry on making sure the tea was always there.

* * *

Mandarin stood up to stretch his cramped back and surveyed the mechanical parts scattered across the room. Small and large contraptions of elaborate design with endless floods of electrical cords spewing forth from their interiors dominated the room – and in the midst of it all sat Otto and the Hyperforce leader.

It had been another battle, another clear-cut victory for the Monkey Team – anything else would have been less than acceptable – but some of the collateral damage had struck the Super Robot and somehow damaged the engines that powered the Lazatron Fury. The citizens of Shuggazoom had been very understanding about the whole ordeal, incessantly assuring the Monkey Team that no, they didn't _really_ need that four-story mall and deluxe health resort.

Of course the tolerant attitude might have had something to do with Mandarin standing by, glaring and suggestively brandishing his energy blade… He probably ought to work on his PR skills (as Sprx had so crudely put it) someday - when the most powerful attack technique of the Super Robot wasn't in disrepair, that is.

The green monkey happily dismembered yet another device whilst humming a cheerful tune and accompanying it with clicks of his tail against the floor. "That spa place sure did a job on the Super Robot, huh?" Otto conversed. "And vice versa. I feel kinda bad about that. It would've been nice to go there. They did these scrubby massages y'know?"

"… Really." The orange cyborg wisely opted to not imagine Otto getting an herbal full-body scrub.

"I'd like to try a facial someday," Otto blathered on. "Something with slices of oranges and cucumbers. I'd feel just _dainty_."

Mandarin rightly felt that there was no proper response to this.

"We should've gotten us some of that lilac and lavender shampoo stuff, while we could, though. Don't tell Nova, but after a day of training she doesn't smell too flowery."

"Otto, for the sake of my sanity - _focus_ on the task at hand."

Otto dangled a fried circuit board from its cable. "It's not that bad."

"It is bad _enough_," Mandarin barked.

"But we get to have time to sit and mess around with stuff," Otto pointed out, absentmindedly assembling a particle reactor part with his left hand and making a gesture towards the disarray of the room with the other.

"Time that could have been spent _perfecting_ our skills - not rectifying the _failures_," Mandarin said hotly, walking towards a spare parts compartment and opening it.

Otto worked on dutifully while Mandarin fell oddly silent.

"Otto." The voice was dead-pan.

"Yea-uh?" Otto said, only half listening.

"Otto. There is raspberry ice-cream in the tool box. _Why is there raspberry ice-cream in the tool box?_"

"Um. I put it in there."

Mandarin's left eye twitched uncontrollably. "_Why?"_ he asked; dangerously calm.

"As a snack for later, y'see, the insulation—"

"There is to be no ice-cream or any other snack-foods in the tool box under any circumstances. Ever."

"But—"

"No."

"B—"

"I am putting this in the cup-board in the next room. When the reactor is finished and working properly, you may gorge yourself at your desire. Consider it motivation." The Hyperforce leader angrily waved the ice-cream container around before leaving to put the offending snack away.

Otto pouted momentarily, but was quickly absorbed in work by his adoration for tech and doodads.

* * *

The Power Primate. How do you explain that?

It is faith. And how do you explain faith? It is like climbing the tallest mountain, walking to the edge, looking into the depths – seeing that the ground is so far away it disappears into grey nothingness and you feel gravity pull at you, tug at your body for it to fall the two thousand feet and smash against the rocky bottom. Faith is closing your eyes and stepping over the edge of the cliff and into the void.

The Power Primate is when you do not fall.

"You'll excuse me if I'd rather wanna fly over that mountain in my ship, right?"

And - as some would put it - when you didn't want to willingly jump off a cliff it was known as 'common sense'.

"I could hardly force you to do otherwise. However, since the Power Primate is inherently with you as well as it is with our other siblings, I heartily recommend you become adept in its use."

Sprx smirked at the spiritual guru. He was wondering if the reason the black, orange and blue monkeys got along so well was that they all spoke in the same convoluted fashion. Really, how hard was it to say "I can't make you but I think you should anyway" without using four-syllable words?

"I can honestly tell you that this mystic force belief stuff goes right over my head, Antauri."

The black monkey closed his eyes and floated off the floor. Sprx had to give it to him– it was a really neat trick.

"The Power Primate is a force of endless possibilities. It can give you the ability to see without looking, to lift without touching—"

"To talk without making sense…"

Antauri just smiled lightly in reply.

At least the black cyborg was easier to talk to, Sprx found. Not because he was especially responsive – but he didn't explode into diatribes about discipline or how the futility of his efforts to rub together two neurons in order to create coherence could prove be a force so strong it potentially threatened the theories of four-dimensional real vector space or... _something_.

He had only picked up the one fact that it was an overly elaborate, geeky insult - which was really all he needed to know.

"Perhaps you just need to contemplate the philosophy further…"

"Uh-huh. Can I do that now? In the lounge? While resting my eyes?" Sprx got up and stretched his arms.

"You will be sleeping on it I take it?"

"Can't all be super magical monks, can we now?"

"That remains to be seen."

"Heh, sure. Later 'Tauri."

Nobody could be forced over the edge against their will. When the pilot had left, Antauri continued to float, eyes closed and his tail almost touching the floor. He couldn't expect them to want to eagerly take that fateful step, but getting them to reflect over the Power Primate was more than he could hope for.

He would never withdraw that offer to join him above the vast deeps of the void. Whether they chose to take it or not was up to them. But he could hope. He had faith.

* * *

It was done and Mandarin was, if not pleased, then at least less unsatisfied than he had been two and a half hours earlier.

Otto was less than pleased in any way.

The genius mechanic sat hunched in front of the cupboard, sheer heartbreak on his face. In his hands was the container full of ice-cream delight. Melted to a slush.

Mandarin regarded him coolly. "Well, that was to be expected."

Otto's lip quivered ever so slightly.

"Work and duty always takes precedence before pleasure."

The black eyes shimmered; a warning of on-coming tears.

"..."

The ice-cream box trembled in Otto's hands.

"Oh for pity's sake! Get up! Get up and follow me!"

"Where are we going?" Otto asked curiously, his tears forgotten in a bout of bipolarity.

"I am taking you to the City and shoving your throat full of ice-cream!"

Otto practically bounced off the floor. "Thank you Mandy!" he beamed and gleefully avoided the hand that lashed out at the back of his head.

* * *

On the other side of the Robot, things were not going so sweetly.

"For the last time: there is absolutely no empirical evidence that slacking off is good for _anyone_."

"Whatever, _Hal_. You know, just because Mandarin wants us to work all the time doesn't _mean_ it's the right thing to do. That guy wouldn't know what to do with a free moment to breathe if it came up painted itself purple and danced naked on top of the table singing 'Freebird'."

"Really, Spar-x, he's jus-"

"It's _Sprx_. Not 'Sp_uh-ar_cks.' Get it right."

"You don't have to be _rude_ about it. It's just the way I talk. Now as I was saying: he is just a concerned leader. It's his job to make sure that we are all in perfect form whenever the need may arise and-"

"Yeah, well, learn to talk better. So you're saying that working _all the time_ will make us better? Aren't you a _doctor_? Don't you know, like all this stuff about how the body needs to rest and that our circuits can overheat if we go too long and hard without a break? "

"Well, yes, that's true. Bu-"

"It's settled then. I'm right, you're wrong. Now if you don't mind I'm going to go be unproductive and take a nap."

"That is _not_ what I said! I do concede the point that working all the time is dangerous and unhealthy, but not doing any work isn't much better. Laziness leads to obesity and obesity leads to numerous medical conditions such as heart disease, stroke, diabetes, high cholesterol, and-"

"Woah woah woah _woah. _ I didn't ask for a full health article _Dr. _Gibson. Sheesh, you make my brain hurt."

"Well maybe if you used it a little more and paid attention to what's important it wouldn't have to strain so much."

"Whatever-_Brainstrain_."

"_What_ did you just call me?"

"You heard me. I now dub you forever to be Brainstrain. Kinda catchy innit?"

The blue simian merely spluttered and gasped in outrage at such an undignified nickname while his compatriot watched with an amused smirk.

"Well, not that this hasn't been _fun_ and all-but I gots some winks to catch up on. See ya around, Brainstrain."

"Spar-x-!"

* * *

The crystal was once again filled with the image of a large automaton that housed seven cybernetic simians.

They had done well these past few months...Defeating his "challenges" over and over again. Not that it mattered, they would fall to him in the end. He was superior to their meager make, he had vaster resources behind him. He was power incarnate.

It was time for the final clash. Those worthless monkeys would finally see true evil and they will quake before it in fear and agony.

With a wave of his skeletal hand a large army of his Formless minions was unleashed just outside the City. A preview of his might...just for them.

His perpetually smiling face grew more sadistic.

* * *

Sprx and Gibson looked up from their respective activities (lounging on the couch and updating the programming on the hand-held scanner) to see an irate Mandarin enter with Otto in tow.

"_Humans,_" Mandarin hissed. "What _despicable_ creatures they are!"

The red and blue Hyperforce members sent Otto a look effectively saying: 'What is it _now?_'

Otto flashed them a smile and started explaining: "We went downtown and met this chatty ol' mate swingin' a sign around. He just wanted to talk- er, yell at someone, I think. He stopped hollering when I shared my ice-cream with him, though. Then he just started mumbling about 'the rats in the walls'."

"There were things in that abhorrent hobo's beard more alive than Sprx!" Mandarin snarled in disgust and sent Sprx a disapproving glare. It was returned with a stuck-out tongue.

Before Mandarin could jump to throttle the pilot, Otto cut in again: "He gave me this nice home-made knife. Very thoughtful of 'im."

The other three turned to the mechanic and stared at the makeshift stabbing device in his outstretched paw.

"Otto – that's a _shank_." Sprx said.

"Maybe the hobo is a scout leader?"

"Shanks aren't made by scouts, Otto."

"Is that… blood?" Gibson said weakly.

"Oh, I'm sure it's not the hobo's," Otto replied soothingly. His answer didn't do much to calm the worried exchange of looks between the other three.

"Throw that appalling thing out before I forcefully make you," Mandarin ordered.

"I can't do that – it's a gift!"

"It is a severe health risk!" Gibson exclaimed.

"It is _useless_," Mandarin said with force. "A laughably crude _penknife_ compared to your existing weapons."

"Really?" Otto said brightly, having only picked out the incorporated compliment. "You mean that?"

"Throw it out _now_."

"Oh all right Mandy."

Sprx might be rash and rowdy, but he _did_ possess enough of a self-preserve instinct to know that if he valued his ability to convert oxygen into energy he'd keep any 'witty' comments about Mandarin's new nickname to himself.

At least until the orange and green monkeys had left the room – one headed for a light garbage duty and the other to pound him for mentioning the embarrassing pet name in front of the others.

Gibson frowned as Sprx gagged on his own guffaws. Then a tiny smirk entered his face.

"Well, _you_ seem keen on Mandarin's new-fangled alias," Gibson stated neutrally.

"_Are you doodlin' kiddin' me?_ Didn't ya see the way his – _Mandy's _– face wrinkled up when Otto called him that? I don't care _what_ you think about Otto – that guy is a _genius_!"

"I would expect nothing but such a well-founded assessment from you – _Sparky_."

"… Say_ what?_" Sprx cried out – not at all happy with Gibson's sudden fit of creativity.

"You like it? I'm partial to it myself - it corresponds quite nicely with your as-of-yet proven level of maturity."

"Listen here Brainstain—"

The alarms cut off the rest of the argument and sent all the occupants inside racing to the Control Center. They had done this numerous times over the last few months and were finally figuring out a system. The view screen switched to the outside surveillance and showed a large blob of black... stuff heading toward the city.

"Is that... formless?" Otto asked. He was squinting pretty hard in order to make out the shapes that _might _be in the mass.

"I doesn't matter. We have to go fight it," Mandarin told the assembled team. "Everyone, to your stations!"

"I'm leaving."

The alarms drowned out the pressing silence as everyone stared at the gold monkey.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Um. This one has also been done forever. Enjoy. ^^;

* * *

_**Chapter 6 **_

* * *

_"True heroism consists in being superior to the ills of life, in whatever shape they may challenge us to combat." _- Napoleon Bonaparte

* * *

"Don't just stand there. I said to your stations!" Mandarin called out to the rest of the assembled monkeys who were still gaping at the stoic yellow one.

"_Excuse me_. Did you not hear what I said: _I quit_."

"Yes, I heard you," Mandarin sneered at her. "I simply don't care. Everyone get to your battle stations, _now_. Even you sniveling cowards who are not worthy of your titles." He stormed past the yellow monkey on his way to his tube, sending a fierce glare at her the whole way.

The rest of the monkeys all looked at each other for a moment until the alarm began to seep into their receptors again and urged them to take action for the sake of the innocent Citizens who they were chosen to protect.

Nova was the last one to turn and make her way to her station.

* * *

Once the Team was in position the Super Robot took flight to have a closer look at the oncoming Formless threat. The oncoming threat was likewise galloping nearer to have a closer look at the Robot's jugular.

A dozen or so black-slime-oozing monsters in various bloodthirsty shapes were baring their teeth and making other carnage-promising gestures at Shuggazoom's six-monkey army.

"It appears to be Formless," Gibson said while intently studying the visual data on his screens. "But they are oddly specific in design as opposed to their usually featureless gelatinous shape."

"Aw look - a puppy!" Otto exclaimed happily.

Jumping off the roof of a beauty parlour a three-headed dog – four hundred times the size of your average inbred Doberman and foaming accordingly at the mouths – attacked the Robot; paws ferociously mauling the metal front, the shrill clamour having all Team members grit their teeth in exasperation.

"And it wants a hug!" the mechanic yelled through the ear-splitting screech of claws against steel.

"Yeah, well, it also needs to be house-broken – emphasis on _broken_." The right hand of the Robot shot out and grabbed the back of the monster mutt's neck, stretched back and flung the dog - froth and all - right into a giant lobster creature which had been quickly creeping in from the Red Bridge of Shuggazoom. The ghastly pair rolled off to one side in a tangle of saliva and limbs, shrieking and howling, respectively; but soon enough more gooey atrocities were queuing up in their place.

"Large mustachioed dragon at three o'clock!" Sprx yelled and fired missiles in order to keep a polite distance to the Formless reptile which evaded and hovered nearer on bat-like wings. The Robot swatted at the dragon and sent it flying into the sea.

"Viscous, muggy sea-spider to the left- I mean _on my Fist Rocket get it off get it off!"_

Mandarin slammed down on a button that informed the Robot to emit several thousand amperes into the body of the arachnid preying on the Fist Rocket 4. The force flung it sprawling across the City, where it groggily scuttled around, trying to regain control of all eight legs who insisted on going in five different directions simultaneously.

The crazed canine - now disengaged from the lobster-thing - paired up with another three members of the gunky beast brigade – a large, millipede whose segmented panzer glittered with black ooze; the now extremely irate lobster-monster and what appeared to be a horribly deformed kangaroo with grossly disproportionate hind legs and fangs the size and circumference of telephone booths.

The quartet engaged in close combat with the Robot, who in turn was dancing around their attacks, trying to avoid stepping on cars and private property while repeatedly denying the oncoming vicious embraces.

"Fire missiles! Lotsa missiles! And then a li'l more!"

"Activating outer defence systems!"

"Holy Shuggazoom, does that bunny over there have tentacles coming out of its back? Talk about just plain _wrong_."

"If it's moving, blast it until it stops!"

"Not that your advice isn't useful or anything, but I was gonna do that anyway, Novs - it's not like we've got time to show favoritism here!"

While they bantered, several well-targeted eye laser beams made sure the tentacle-ridden mammal stayed on the Shuggazoom Mega Mall parking lot a good distance away.

"They are closing in from behind!"

"Now would be a good time to fire up the ol' Lazatron Fury?"

"Quite reasonable, Otto."

No such thing happened.

"Mandarin?"

"Wait for it."

The many-segmented arthropod swirled around the giant mecha's body, holding it tightly in place while the Formless dog moved in to slobber toothy doom on the Brain Scrambler Pilot 2.

"Wait for—_what_?" Nova raged in her cockpit. "To have the monster mongrel _swallow_ Antauri? Monkeydoodl—"

"_Wait for it._"

The lobster followed the canine's example and slammed in on the torso of the Super Robot, trying to knock it over; the kangaroo, in turn, was being just plain rude and stepped on the Robot's feet (the fiend). The gooey animals swamped the front of the robot, thinking it overwhelmed and then suddenly they didn't think much anymore when the devastating force coming out of the robotic chest hurled all four Formless creatures off the city map in a pitifully yipping mess of ooze.

Victorious, but alert of further danger, the Super Robot turned to the rest of the menacing menagerie, but found that the remaining monsters too were fading into puddles of sooty gunk that quickly frittered away into the depths of the City in the form of the mindless black soldiers they had come to know and loathe so well.

"We cannot follow them into the smaller confines of Shuggazoom City," Gibson warned.

"Emerge from the Robot. We shall face the Formless pariah head-on," Mandarin ordered and immediately dislodged from his seat.

In her compartment, Nova intensely wished she had knuckles to ominously crack.

* * *

The Team dispersed into the streets of Shuggazoom City which were swarming with Formless battalions. They split off into pairs, eager to rid the City of the current amorphous scourge.

The golden monkey in particular seemed overly keen on dealing out damage – not unusual behaviour, but she went about smashing heads in with a little more vigour than was really strictly necessary.

Sprx made a big, empty hole out of three slime soldiers and moved on while Nova kept hammering the remains of another five into the ground until the asphalt underneath suffered as well.

"So... What made you decide to leave?" the red cyborg questioned. He kept his attention on the ring of Formless surrounding him and his partner but that didn't keep his curiosity at bay.

"None of your business," Nova was tearing through the large mass of goop like it was water. Sprx thought he even saw some of it evaporate under her touch. Feisty.

"Well considering that you're abandoning the team-which I'm a part of-_and _you're my designated fighting pal, I'd say it is my business."

The yellow cyborg ripped through the ring of foes, splashing mailboxes and corner stores with the liquid remains of the opponents.

"You wouldn't understand."

Sprx felt like developing a twitch there and then. "What wouldn't I understand? Not liking this job? Not liking the _people _in this job? Wanting to just take off and never look back? Having every ounce of freedom that you ever worked for undermined by some control-freak monks and their little cronies?"

The she-warrior whipped around, throwing one Formless soldier right through the abdomen of other who had been lurching in on her colleague. Both enemies dissolved into harmless puddles. "Look. In case you hadn't noticed we're in the middle of a battle. Now's not the best time to have a heart-to-heart."

They continued to thin out the small street, silently covering each other's back and huddling underneath the fruit store displays when three Formless grouped together to throw a minivan at them.

"... You're not really gonna quit, are you?" Sprx asked warily as millions of tiny glass splinters rained down on their refuge.

"Of course I am! I'm not an attention hogging liar." The air around Nova sizzled faintly.

The golden warrior leapt up, slammed her fist against the side of the minivan and sent it soaring at the three Formless who should've seriously reconsidered their previous idea of using the surroundings to their advantage. Before ever getting the chance to do so, they were reduced to slush under the weight of the ruined vehicle.

Sprx and Nova walked to the middle of the road.

Down the street a fresh division of Formless soldiers were marching nearer, staggering and hunching onward, mindless as they were in their unrelenting onslaught.

"Then why're you still here? No one's around, you could take off and no one would know until it's all over. Why are you still fighting this battle?"

His only answers were the silence of the City and the dull, nonstop stomping of the Formless.

* * *

The rancid, boggy smell of singed sludge - like an old gas-filled marshland tree slowly burning up - fluttered through the air, being quickly spread with each sizzling movement of the energy sword.

Mandarin didn't even care to see one Formless splatter to the ground before he moved on to the next.

His arms moved automatically – years and years of the same movements in training sessions and months of hearing the splash following the defeat of a Formless sometimes rendered him almost impassionate about the deeds. The only thing that mattered was the fact that when he stopped moving, the enemy was gone and he was left standing.

He stood his ground. Everything else fell apart.

The energy blade disappeared in blurred flashes of blue light and black goo. The grey concrete of the streets was slowly painted with the grimy carcasses of the monkey's adversaries.

He stood tall. Everything else—no. The Team - _his_ Team - was the one thing that would prevail. Mandarin would not allow Nova to simply desert, but that was a problem to obsess over later. Other slimy and deadly issues were advancing on him and his combating partner in potentially fatal numbers.

A black wave of juicy fresh Formless poured around Antauri and Mandarin. The black monkey let loose a devastating Monkey Mind Scream that greatly reduced the ranks on their left while Mandarin had his back and sent mucky appendages flying in every direction.

It was fortunate he and his old time friend complemented each other so well in battle – should Mandarin have found himself with the incredibly chatty mechanic or the slapdash Sprx as a fighting partner, he might up and decapitate either one out of sheer annoyance before the enemy got the chance.

Mandarin offhandedly separated one Formless from its lower torso with surgical precision while observing Antauri from the corner of his eye. Glowing light green claws dug deep into the abdomen of two foes before tearing back and covering the street with their guts.

There was a certain ruthlessness to the weapons of his brother that Mandarin both envied and found incredibly primitive; a hands-on cruelty reminding him of their primal origins. The ferocity with which Antauri went about executing the Formless in comparison to his usual subdued behavior was a contrast that amused Mandarin. It proved to show the 'primal' in the Power Primate.

Finding that he had distracted himself enough, Mandarin slammed his shield against a row of Formless, effectively pushing them back. There was a pleasant sizzling as the circular energy field burnt the outer layer of black ooze off the first unfortunate enemy in line.

Antauri reached out and sliced.

_Slash._

Mandarin brought down the sword.

_Shhkt._

The Hyperforce leader never gave up his ground, his loyal friend was at his side and endless formations of enemies approached, ready to perish at his hands. If it wasn't because it would've been deemed tasteless, Mandarin would seriously have considered enjoying himself over this.

* * *

He hated fighting.

_Hit. Punch. Kick. Shoot._

He really and truly hated it.

_Shoot. Kick. Punch. Duck. Leap._

Loathed it even.

_Run. Duck. Roll. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Charge._

So why was he here? Jumping and running and firing off lethal shots of elements into masses of unidentifiable ooze? Fighting for his very life? Voluntarily?

_Hit. Punch. Drills. Shoot. Shoot. Duck._

There was no readily available logical explanation.

_Lunge. Retreat. Charge. Hit. Hit. Shoot. Kick._

He had been asking himself these exact questions every day for the last few months and he was still nowhere close to coming up with any form of satisfactory solution.

_Duck. Save. Shoot._

"Otto! Look out."

It wasn't like they truly needed someone like him. Well, maybe. When they got hurt. But other than being a free medical center he was almost useless.

"Thanks, Gibson."_  
_

_Jump. Fall. Kick. Kick. Drill. Hit._

Was all this even worth it? He certainly hoped so.

_Shoot. Punch. Kick. Kick. Drill. Run. Run. Charge._

* * *

The quiet made everything seem ten times as bad as it probably was. In fact, they were probably doing really well and tearing through the monster right now. But the silence...

The City was _never _silent.

Helen looked around at the gathered Citizens all huddled into select groups within this small shelter. It hadn't been used in years it looked like-at least not by the dominant inhabitants of the planet. What it's original purpose was supposed to be Helen couldn't begin to guess, but it was a nice little shelter that could hold a decent number of people in it. There were more, spread all throughout the City; under warehouses and behind hidden passages in walls, it was an undisturbed labyrinth right underneath the City. Until now, that is.

If Gibson hadn't been looking through the city schematics one day for research about the Robot they would have never known about them. It was a fascinating architectural design. If you were interested in such a thing, and Helen admitted that she wasn't.

She tried to send out a calming aura toward the anxious Citizens but it was taxing. They were too panicked to notice anyway.

"What's happening?" someone asked. It had been quiet for a long time now.

"I don't know," Helen said. "But they will contact me once everything is safe. Please, remain where you are."

Being a shape shifter had its advantages. She could pretty much speak any language she came into contact with. She just... absorbed the knowledge. Gibson would find that interesting. He'd probably want to probe her some more. She decided not to mention it unless she absolutely had to.

Helen sat down in the lotus position and began to try and meditate. It would do no good worrying about the Team. They would be fine. They'd faced tougher beings in their short time of coming together. Everything would be fine.

She'd feel it if Antauri was seriously injured or killed. Fear was the mind killer... but lying never helped anyone either.

* * *

"That went well!"

"Don't lie for my sake, Otto; it's more insulting than comforting."

"But the Formless are gone, that's what matters, Gibson! Who cares that you got covered in evil gooey nasty slimy—"

"I do!" Gibson shouted and flailed his arms about, splashing goo everywhere.

"Who knows? Maybe it's good for your coat – Like, y'know, a mudbath! Except instead of mud it's the sticky icky remains of awful sins to Nature. That's gotta count for something!"

"… I claim my right to remain highly skeptical of that theory."

"Claim your rights to a bath, too; will ya?" Sprx grinned at the less-than-amused Gibson.

The red and yellow cyborgs joined up with the green and once-blue-but-now-mostly-black monkeys.

"Did the Formless also just… _run off_ from you?" Nova asked; scanning the area but finding no goopy activity in sight.

"Yeah! D'ya think we won?"

"… I think you should take a look at this," Gibson said breathlessly. They turned to the direction of the stunned scientist.

Thousands of the black slug-like creatures were massing to one gargantuan pillar of ooze in the far horizon. Writhing and squirming, it was slowly reassembling itself. Thin, bony limbs dripping with slime were meticulously shaping itself into a massive heap of long, skeletal spider legs and several pairs of frankly ridiculously over-sized bat-wings.

Instantly, their transmitters started screaming 'incoming message' at them.

"Team, reunite at the Robot as quickly as possible."

Antauri didn't even finish his command before the monkeys took off.

It was like a giant ball of black, sodden yarn with twigs and sticks poking out of it and about as maneuverable. The Giant Formless hurriedly scuttled away - bumping into buildings and loosing its balance - when the Super Robot came blasting out from the City as it clearly had no intention of fighting the heavily armed automaton.

That intention became even clearer when all the tattered pairs of wings flapped open and the goo ball ungainly lifted off, limping like a baby bird reluctant to fly for the first time. However, the second all the wings started working together, the Giant Formless sped off into the atmosphere, seeking to flee the battle.

"Are we just gonna let it fly off?" Otto asked.

"I'd say we could follow – this form seems less combat-oriented and more adapted to quickly retreating while bringing back as many of its supporters as possible."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's finish it off!" Sprx said enthusiastically at the prospect of an easy finale.

"Indeed." Mandarin activated the back thrusters and the Super Robot followed the fleeing Formless in close pursuit, breaching the atmosphere of Shuggazoom and quickly catching up to the Formless monster.

The Giant Formless squeaked, flapped its wings and wiggled its legs pathetically when the Super Robot rammed it into an asteroid field. Pieces of rock and metal junk scraped at the ineffective Formless, its feeble attempts at recovering from this predicament desperately futile.

Before they could all pat each other's back at a Job Well Done, somebody else patted the back of the Super Robot. Hard.

The impact took them completely by surprise and hurled the mecha directly into the asteroid field with the Giant Formless who was too busy not being torn apart to even think of sniggering at the misfortune of its adversary.

"What _was_ that!" Nova yelled over the sound of rock scraping against metal.

"Ambush!" Mandarin fumed.

A crisp sound of large exhausts blasting something extremely big through the void reached them before Gibson quickly brought up a shaky visual. "Oh… my. This could be potentially bad. Very bad."

There were big things and then there were big Big Things.

This was a big Big Bad Thing and it was closing in fast. It moved forward with an indifferent arrogance to its surroundings that came with the knowledge of being bigger than anybody else, asteroids and meteors bumping off the spiky, stony exterior like bugs on a windscreen.

It was a grey, scabrous structure of pointy doom from which squirming tentacles shot forward and clasped the Super Robot in a hug too tight for comfort.

They were being pulled in. There was no fighting back. Whatever it was, it was too strong.

A large hole opened before them as they reached the stone-ship.

Then everything went black.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Looks like y'all get ALL the chapters today. Except not really cuz we haven't finished the story.

* * *

_**Chapter 7**_

* * *

_"True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost." _- Arthur Ashe

* * *

The darkness didn't fade. It was still pitch; the only thing that did change was the feeling of the atmosphere. It was suddenly dank and wet and just _wrong_. They weren't in the Robot anymore.

They could feel their slimy captors pushing them along but their hold was suddenly rock hard and it was impossible to escape. Eventually they began to notice that they could see faintly. They weren't sure if it was because their eyes had adjusted or if there was some light around that they couldn't identify, but it was comforting to do so all the same.

Except for when they began to actually see their surroundings. The hellish creatures that walked next to them and the twisted caverns plummeted their spirits more so than the darkness had.

The ship seemed to have no navigable pathways-doors would suddenly appear in walls or out of floors that allowed more of the Formless creatures to pass by them. It seemed almost alive. Well, not alive, but not dead either. Un-dead. The ship was un-dead.

They walked a long time.

This put them all on further edge. Just what were they dealing with here?

After a small eternity walking the levels they were lead down a hall that had a noticeable light at the end of it. None of them wanted near it. It was a ghastly, sickly green color-the kind that precedes the fog that holds the monster that will come and eat you in your peaceful sleep.

Several of them tried to stop, but were pushed on regardless.

Beyond the entryway was a dead-end.

* * *

The monkeys were paraded before him like some dark circus act. They squirmed and struggled and growled and glanced around with anger hiding the fear in their eyes; he could feel it though. It swirled around them like the ancient, toxic fumes of his own ship-only far more gratifying.

He slammed his staff onto the hardened marrow floor, calling their attention to himself-he was the _host _after all.

"Greetings, monkeys..." His voice was rough and ancient. It sounded like a final breath after long suffering with some parting words that gripped you to them, _demanded _you heed them. It was the voice of the Skeleton King. "I trust you have found my home to your liking."

They stared at him, bespelled by his voice and horrified at his corpse body. There was disgust mingled with their fear and hatred now, as well as some curiosity. That would do well.

"Who-" the orange monkey's voice cracked. "Who are you?" he finally bit out. He drew himself up and held himself with as much authority as his feeble stature allowed.

"I am the master of this domain. The creator of these Formless creatures you are so bent on destroying."

"You created them?" the blue one spoke up. Curiosity was winning him over.

"Yes, and I have taken it as a personal insult that you keep annihilating them before they can finish out their purpose."

"They try to destroy _the City_," the orange one-Mandarin, he recalled-broke in again.

"Yes, that is their primary objective."

"Why?" the yellow one-Nova-asked. Her voice was full of innocent curiosity but her eyes betrayed the indignant anger and fear within her.

"What have the citizens ever done to you?" the blue one-Gibson-asked.

"They have rejected me. They stand between me and my destiny. I must go forth with my mission."

"_Who are you?_" Mandarin asked once more.

"You may call me, the Skeleton King."

"I have never heard of you," Mandarin declared. He looked over to the others as if for confirmation or reassurance.

"Nor have I, but we are not the most educated on Shuggazoomian history," Gibson said.

"Enough of this talk," the Skeleton King declared. He waved his hand toward the group and their captors immediately melted from them into the floor. The goop that remained of them slithered out the only door within the room, which sealed over into hardened bone once it was gone.

"I have brought you before me now, to seal your fate once and for all. You have two choices, you may either turn your allegiance to myself and become my minions, or you shall be destroyed."

"What?" the simians all cried out in varying degrees.

"Surely this is some joke," Mandarin said.

"I assure you, this is no joke. You must decide your fate now, if you accept my proposal I shall grant you more power and dominion than you could possibly dream of. The universe will be yours for the taking." The forever frozen smile on his face seemed to laugh at their uncertainty and temptation.

"The universe will never be yours to give," Antauri's firm voice rang out clearly, leaving no edge of weakness to be exploited. The faces of the others hardened, reinforced by this first rejection, as they in turn denied _him_, the Skeleton King:

"Yeah, the universe is everybody's," the green one chimed in.

"No power is worth being a slave," Nova glowered at the villain towering over them. "Especially not to somebody as ugly as you," she added fiercely.

"Don't provoke the necromantic lunatic in a position to end us by viscous suffocation," Gibson advised with a low voice, then straightened up and voiced his refusal: "But, no – keep your promises of supremacy to yourself."

"Yeah, as if we'd ever trust somebody with a poker face like yours," Sprx added.

"I am nobody's minion. I serve no one but my own Destiny," Mandarin ended the row of replies, his voice now steeled by the self-confidence and determination that came with knowing you were not alone in your decision.

The monkeys stood in a semi-circle, haughtily regarding the skeletal figure before them with some sort of self-satisfied notion of idealism. Insubordinate spawns. If they could not be swayed by enticement, then pain and intimidation would have to do. Not that the means mattered in any way – the result would be the same – the sovereignty of the Skeleton King - with or without the cooperation of the imprudent simians.

"So be it," the coarse voice of the Skeleton King grated against their auditory receptors, laced with a tinge of dark humour at their heroic ideas. "You will feel on your own bodies the power you have so foolhardily denied." With a swish of his cape he gestured towards the shadowed corners of the room which proved to be more Formless goo hiding as scenery. The dark decor obeyed its master, came to life and wriggled into shapes of hostile quality.

Surrounded, the Monkey Team brought out their individual weapons, facing the enemy in an outward circle.

"This looks bad," Otto admitted. "How do we get out of this?"

"Never back down," Mandarin commanded. "Stand your ground. Fight with dignity or don't fight at all."

"At least I'll die knowing you were theatrical to the bitter end," Sprx said, the jesting overlapped by anxiety and annoyance.

"I'd rather fight and die with pride than live my life in shame," Mandarin said, his calm resolve being accompanied by the sizzling of his energy weapons in an eerie fashion.

"Fine then. Let's go out in a blaze of glory - like true performers," Sprx gritted his teeth, not sure how much was sarcastic comeback and how much was sincere - albeit foolish – determination to exhibit one last display of attitude in the face of the overwhelming odds.

"Let's show them what we're made of," Nova growled and raised her fists.

"Colourful gadgets and puppydog eyes?" Otto suggested.

And with that one last line of larger-than-life pep talk, the Team charged as one.

* * *

No matter how dense others might think you, there are times when you and everybody just _know_ – be it genre-savviness or plain instinct – that this is to be a Defining Moment in Time. The ominous background scenery, the cackling of the Main Bad Villain, the hundreds and hundreds of Minions encircling you – it all leads up to the final do-or-die climax where you either prevail or die un-epically.

Hopefully they'd win and maybe do it while a climactic explosion destroyed the villain's lair and the Main Bad yelled 'Curse youuuu!' at the top of his lungs. Some things just have to be done in the proper way.

But that climax seemed so far away. Rows and rows of Formless Minions advanced upon the Team in an ongoing onslaught where the monkeys slashed and pushed back, only to have new slime soldiers swoop up from the walls and the floor to take the place of the fallen ones.

The tides never seemed to turn. Neither slime nor simians lost any significant ground, but kept pressing on, kept striking and lashing out, kept doing the same movements over and over and over simply because there was no other option but to fight on. On and on and on.

Green saws swirled and sloshed black sludge in all directions as Otto ploughed through another slime soldier. His joints ached in a dull way that only helped to reassure him that his arms and legs were still attached to his body and not being digested by the Skeleton King's gelatinous Minions. Every time he moved, it ached, every time he went from one position to another, nerves throbbed in weary response.

Otto wished he could just tell them to shush so he could concentrate on not dying or accidentally dismantle any of his Teammates. That wouldn't do any good and Mandarin would get cross with him. The leader would probably lecture him on stamina techniques and focusing when they won. Otto looked forward to that.

Winning. That'd be nice. Any time now.

The green monkey couldn't count how many black shapes he had dissipated and then waited for a new one to rise from the floor. He couldn't shake off the image of trying to wipe up an ocean with a tattered piece of paper tissue.

Not far away, by the red monkey's side, Nova hammered down Formless like she was playing some pointless carnival game. Only she might lose more than loose pocket change if she failed to hit the targets on time.

This was what she had trained for - this very event - the dramatic battle against the odds, shoving the face of the enemy into the ground; hitting, kicking and employing all her anger and hard-achieved combat skills in an epic display of violent bravado and heroism – _doing_ something _worthwhile_ with her life – _accomplishing_ something.

Although... the true high point of the mêlée kept being postponed by goop Minions. Nova looked to the sneering contour of the Skeleton King – the true goal of the Team - who was silently watching on as part of the background scenery. When she got her paws on him, she'd show just _how_ much she could accomplish. She'd beat that horrible grin off his face with his own staff.

The Skeleton King was in no way impressed by the incredibly dirty looks sent him by the female monkey. If anything it amused him that she so insisted on putting on this facade of audacity.

"We're gonna kick your bony rear – bet on it!" she yelled at him and minced three Formless into paste. She was backed up by the red and green monkeys who yelled similarly childish insults at him.

The nerve of thinking they could actually achieve anything but slightly staining the floor. Insufferable cybernetic nuisances with their insipid flauntings of heroism – deluding themselves into thinking themselves able to alter the course he had set for Destiny. Laughable.

The Skeleton King rose from his throne and plunged the staff into the ground - the tremor sent all the Formless slinking to the corners, leaving the Monkey Team lashing out at the empty air. "This ends now."

An invisible force picked the monkeys up from the floor and mercilessly hurled them across the room where they met with the walls with a nauseatingly dull crack.

The tangle of simians groaned in astonishment and pain. Somewhere inside the mess of tails and bruises and multi-hued fur Mandarin barked orders for them to first get the doodle off him and then pull themselves back together.

"Ow my... _everything_," Otto groaned and rolled off his blue brother.

"Get up!" Mandarin exclaimed and kicked them both off him. "We mustn't group together, it'll make it easier for him to target all of—"

They were again scooped up by an unseen hand and whipped aside like some unwanted toy.

The monkeys skidded across the floor, their cybernetic implants screeching and sparking as metal scraped against the bony, rock-like material. The skeletal villain laughed at their misery as the sound made their fur stand on end.

Antauri grabbed the shoulders of Mandarin and Gibson, steadying themselves as the others unfortunately flew out of reach and collided with the walls yet again.

"Split up," Mandarin hissed under his breath. The trio activated their jet-packs and soared around the room in order to divide and conquer. Gibson went for the ceiling, attacking the stalactites with his drills while Antauri and Mandarin went for the head-on approach, assaulting the Skeleton King from opposite directions, weapons raised and sizzling with energy.

The undead villain merely scoffed at their valiant efforts, the rocks that Gibson's efforts sent flying at his ossified head were crushed with the same swipe of his staff that pounded the black monkey aside, while he sidestepped the orange who in turn smacked into the blue and rolled off to one side.

He towered over the monkeys who were all again scattered alongside one wall and looked up at him in varying degrees of fright and fury.

"Foolish monkeys! Did you think that you could defeat me?"

Skeleton King extended one hand and slowly lifted them off the floor yet again. Their eyes filled with dread expectation at their heads continuously and harshly meeting with the stone structure of the ship.

Instead, he brought them nearer his throne; his piercing stare seeming like it could tear them to shreds by its sheer power of malevolence alone. His voice rang out like the ominous midnight toll of a bell tower: "I am to rid the universe of your filth and unleash the Dark Ones upon the Cosmos. As surely as Shuggazoom will fall then so will the rest of the universe follow it."

The two Power Primate students stared at the skeletal being in utter horror while the others gathered from the name that the Dark Ones were not creatures you invited over for afternoon tea and biscuits.

Mandarin struggled against the invisible grasp, incensed by the demented exposition. The Dark Ones - the ultimate force of destruction and malice - existed to accomplish nothing but undo _creation_ itself, to destroy and eradicate and pull apart the very seams of reality.

But before this undead crime against nature could set free these aeons-old beasts of annihilation he wanted – _needed_ – to see Shuggazoom destroyed.

This one little planet - this one, seemingly uninteresting little city. Mandarin gritted his teeth so hard that an actual grating sound was heard. In order to achieve his demented goals of universal annihilation, Skeleton King needed to obliterate Shuggazoom. The City they had sworn to protect. The City they had come to call Home.

Mandarin narrowed his eyes in pure rage. _How _dare_ he?_ _Shuggazoom_, _the City_ – my _City_.

The jagged jaws of the Skeleton King separated slightly as he let out a low, rough laugh and let the monkeys fall to the ground and tumble off his throne where he again brushed them off to one side with a careless gesture of his hand.

The Monkey team were again involuntarily invading each other's private space bubbles and groaning in pain.

"That bone-bag is _toying_ with us," Nova fumed; her limbs trembled in exhaustion and hurt.

"C'mon we can get through this," Otto said, however the quiver in his voice wished to say otherwise.

"And how do you think we'll do that?" Sprx said while rubbing his head. "By the power of love? Sorry to burst your little bubble of hope, but the amount of love in this room won't even fuel a flashlight."

"We mustn't lose hope," the black monkey said sternly.

"You have no hope left to lose," the Skeleton King interjected from his throne. "Now, begone from this world you miserable fusions of meat and metal."

"_Stop_!"

The skeletal being froze. His arm was still outstretched toward them as he was getting ready to attack them once more, but he had ceased looking at them menacingly and was instead staring an empty spot to his right as if it held the most contemptible creation within the universe.

"_You cannot do this. I won't let you._"

"You think you can stop me, fool? You are nothing but a weak phantom, barely able to cling to this shell of a body."

"_It doesn't matter, I gave my life for them once, I can give what's left of it for them again_," the Alchemist - the unknown creator of the six monkeys slumped before them - said. He was nothing more than a ghost now. A spirit that was still somewhat bound to the physical plane by the not-entirely-corrupted heart that still beat within his former body. Only his overshadower could "see" him, hear him, knew he had even existed at all.

"You pathetic waste of cosmic energy," the Skeleton King snapped. "You have _nothing_. All the power that you so dutifully acquired and learned I now possess and control. You cannot stop me."

The monkeys watched on as the terrifying being before them spoke - no _argued _with thin air. The un-dead creature who moments before had been ready to eliminate them from the face of reality was now showing his lack of grasp on it.

"_We shall see_," the Alchemist challenged.

"I should have rid the universe of your presence long ago, a mistake I shall rectify immediately. You're soul will no longer be bound to this corpse. I am it's owner, and I shall use it to instill the proper fear throughout the galaxy."

The monkeys stared at their distracted nemesis in horror – the fright that comes with staring insanity in the face and not in the least knowing what to expect next.

A sizzling of energy was heard as the blue sword sparked to life. Antauri turned to see orange Team leader picked himself up while intently staring in the direction of the Skeleton King with a mix of determination and disgust on his face.

"Mandarin—" Antauri made to follow.

"Stay down," the orange monkey cut him off brusquely. "The villain is distracted. Find a way to the Robot."

"Don't get yourself killed while being all heroic," Sprx called out somewhat in worry and mostly in frustration.

"I don't need to be a _hero_," Mandarin hissed as he lunged towards their nemesis, "I just need to _win_."

He leapt up at the throne on whose peak the Skeleton King was yelling incoherently. The orange monkey seemed so diminutive in comparison to the skeletal figure, to the spiky throne – a small spark of colour edging its way into a dark painting of death and misery.

Antauri called to the others. "Otto, make way for escape; Gibson, can you track the Robot from here?"

"I can." While the blue monkey concentrated on this task, Otto was wildly assaulting the spot in the walls where he guessed they had entered. The black monkey turned to Sprx and Nova. "Stay here and assist Mandarin."

"You heard him, he doesn't _need_ us," Nova spat.

"He might." Antauri shot a worried look in the direction of the throne; then froze. The others turned, expecting to see orange bits scattered all over the place.

There was nobody on the throne.

The throne was _on_ somebody, however.

* * *

The gloved fist met with a hard, yet oddly smooth surface. He'd thought I'd be rough and edgy, but seeing as it was a skinless cranium, the smoothness made more sense. The cracking sound and the feel of tiny bone splinters stabbing all the way through the leather armour were extremely gratifying; to the point it became stimulating. This time, Mandarin didn't even try to hide the fact that he took joy in inflicting pain on his enemy. Not _this_ enemy.

The Skeleton King veered, dazed from the impact, before he unceremoniously fell off the dais.

Mandarin had a spell of grim humour and activated his jet-pack, flew around the room before he soared towards the throne, thrusters on full speed, the energy weapons on the highest and channelling the purest stream of Power Primate energy he could muster. It all culminated when he hit the throne with everything he had, and the stony structure broke off, falling directly towards its wide-eyed owner.

The Team grimaced as the slab of rock hit the villainous figure. Shattered pieces and pebbles spotted the floor and all was silent.

Hovering above the rock-strewn carnage, Mandarin had a far too pleased smile on his muzzle.

"... do you think he's dead?" Otto asked and then reconsidered the wording of his question: "Erm, dead-_er_?"

Before Gibson could launch into a diatribe about the peculiar semantics concerning the reanimated dead, a hand shot out from the pile of rocks and ruthlessly grabbed the orange monkey, literally taking him down a notch as the Skeleton King rose.

Sheer malicious rage prevented the Skeleton King from uttering anything besides a coarse, feral howl as he narrowed his eyes on the orange monkey - the cause of his total humiliation.

Mandarin groaned in pain as claws settled around his neck in a deathly tight grip. No invisible power was used – it was down-to-earth corporeal brutality that had him squirming for air.

"Mandarin!" the others called out.

The Skeleton King brought the Team leader up to his face, and the two locked gazes.

Pain, resolve, want – in both, there were righteous anger beyond sanity – both were incensed at the other for _daring_ to even _touch_ what was their respective _property_.

_My City._

Mandarin twitched. The pain seemed to cleanse his mind of every other notion but the seething, remorseless anger.

_My Universe._

He let the seductive rage grow to uncontrolled proportions – it nurtured his aching limbs, refilled his spirit with energy – in order to fulfill only one ambition.

_My Destiny_.

In one swift motion of a startlingly sadistic magnitude, Mandarin suddenly shoved both energy weapons directly into the face of the Skeleton King, aiming for the frozen, heartless grin.

The monkey didn't quite register when the grip loosened, or the deafening screech of his foe – he only had that sneering face in sight as he brought down the weapons again and again and again. There was no grace in the act, no refined technique or aiming for weak spots, only the most base, continuous striking at the general direction of the enraged Skeleton King.

Until a magenta hand whacked him aside and Mandarin found himself on his back in the midst of his petrified Team. The Skeleton King wobbled around on the floor, growling inarticulately, no longer emitting quite the same presence of ultimate evil.

"Didn't I tell you to _get to the Robot?"_ Mandarin's tense voice snapped the others out of their trance. Quickly, they slashed themselves an exit and fled the room, following Gibson's tracking signal.

* * *

"_I told you not to underestimate them - or myself. We still hold power that you cannot begin to understand._" The ghost of the Alchemist watched as his beloved creations ran off, then down at his counterpart who was still struggling to regain his posture in an undignified manner.

"We shall see about that," the Skeleton King snapped at him. "I've had enough of your meddling - if you hadn't distracted me, I would have finished off those loathsome primates once and for all."

"_They have beaten you once, they can do it again. I have given them the advantage over you, even before my final breathes._"

"And what would that be?" The Skeleton King inquired with an air of disbelief and superiority.

"_Each other. As long as they remain a team, you can never win. They share a bond that transcends time and space, they will never be alone now - something that you can never hope to experience_."

"Indeed, you are correct. I do not hope to forever be in your presence, in fact I wish you to the furthest planes of reality, unable to take shape or make contact with this body ever again. If you do, the consequences will be far greater than just mutating your soul..."

What was left of the Alchemist felt the effects of the curse just placed upon him immediately. The very universe began to pull at his already weakened and tattered soul, pushing and morphing him towards some un-see-able plane of existence that was guaranteed to be far worse than the one he currently resided in. He resisted momentarily, but knew that it was futile - the Dark One servant had grown too strong, soaked up too much of his own strength.

He still had enough left for one last thing: "_Fine, then. But I leave you with this parting gift: as long as it exists, you shall be bound to your own throne - in a literal sense. You may never leave this Citadel as long as it lasts, and we both know that as long as it lasts, so too will you..._"

The Alchemist finally faded from reality and left the Skeleton King to shout in rage as he felt the effects of the Alchemists own curse begin to metaphysically bind him to his home.

* * *

Not a word was uttered as the six monkeys stalked the halls of the stone ship.

Which was fair enough, seeing as they were running for their lives and pallid skeletal and ooze combinations of unnatural horror were jumping for their jugulars at each wrong turn.

But when they made it to the Super Robot and buckled into their cockpits, there still was an odd air of exhilarating joy at the prospect of surviving _and_ winning, tense respect, and fright. Of which the last two were directed towards their leader.

The large automaton rudely put an escape exit where there wasn't one before and sped off into space. Behind them, the jagged rock fortress made no move to follow.

"Finish him off," Mandarin said tersely.

At once, hundreds of missiles shot off from the robotic limbs, making their way towards the enemy ship before they hit in a cloud of light and splintered debris.

Whether it was the feeling of finishing the Skeleton King off for good or the joy of wanton destruction, the quiet tension suddenly transformed into loud whoops of triumph and exclamations of relief:

"Wooohoo! We're _alive_! Awesome! I _love_ being alive!" Otto hooted over the intercom.

"Yes, one never really appreciates living as much as one does when a horrendous death is imminent," Gibson said and let out a sigh.

"C'mon let's get back to see if the Citizens missed us," Nova said and flicked switches to turn on the foot thrusters.

"They're probably overjoyed that we took the rest of this day's shindig into space," Sprx grinned. "I think they are running out of malls."

"Quite. Our intergalactic crime fighting is unusually hard on local shopping venues for some indiscernible reason," Gibson mulled.

Sprx chuckled. "You sayin' that commercialism rub giant space mutants the wrong way? We've been fighting dirty socialist pigs all along?"

"No. _You_ said that," Gibson answered dryly.

"Relax, I'm jokin'."

"Please don't. It's been a long day."

"Hey Mandy," Otto said, and immediately all other chatting subsided. "Can we go for ice-cream? To, y'know, celebrate that you brutally wiped the floor with the creepy insane zombie?"

If there were such a thing as space crickets, rest assured that they would be doing what crickets do best during short awkward silences like this.

At last, Mandarin spoke: "... Ice-cream sounds... acceptable."

The Super Robot returned victoriously to Shuggazoom, their Home.

In the void of space, small, rocky splinters vibrated and dashed off to reconcile with their structure of origin.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Oh! I completely forgot to tell y'all that this onslaught is due to the very kind review by one Nobility who sent a nice batch of warm fuzzies straight to Sniggy's and mine hearts. Thank you 3

* * *

_**Chapter 8 **_

* * *

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice._

_From what I've tasted of desire_

_I hold with those who favor fire._

_But if it had to perish twice,_

_I think I know enough of hate_

_To say that for destruction ice_

_Is also great_

_And would suffice. _

- "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost

* * *

There was something off. Life as they knew it was disrupted.

He couldn't truly place why though.

Maybe "disrupted" wasn't the right word. It was more of an illusion or misconception that stemmed the disruption.

He followed the feeling, the niggling thought, the whatever-it-was as close as he could to it's source.

A dead chill ran through him at what he found.

* * *

"Mandarin."

The orange monkey turned on his heel to face the black monkey who was quickly catching up to him. He waited expectantly for the other to reach him and continue with whatever he desired to talk about now.

"I believe we need to discuss our course of action."

"Over what?" Mandarin asked with a confused yet superior glint in his eyes.

"Over the Skeleton King," Antauri clarified. "I do not believe he is as gone and forgotten as we first believed."

"And what has given you that idea, my dear brother?" Antauri wasn't sure if his oldest friend was being sarcastic or not with the last part of his statement. He truly did not appreciate the cultural knowledge that Sprx provided at times.

"I've been feeling a strange aura in my meditations and-"

"We're in a strange city, on a strange planet, away from the pure source of the Power Primate - of course things are going to feel off," Mandarin said. He shrugged to show his lack of concern with this matter.

"This is different. It feels sinister and -"

"Are you _sure _it's the skeletal being? Why didn't you feel this before we met him?"

"I was unfamiliar with his presence, but now that I've actually met him, well, it feels fairly similar," Antauri argued back. The lack of respect or serious distress over this matter by his leader was very disconcerting. He felt a bit betrayed.

"Perhaps you are simply detecting the left over energies that escaped when he was destroyed," Mandarin logically pointed out. "They are probably being reabsorbed into the Dark Ones. There is no way he could have survived that blast, Antauri. We've defeated many sturdy monsters with it." He was not chosen to be the leader because of his looks - he had a mind fit for making snap decisions under pressure and a hardy appetite for history, philosophy, and strategies. He had always had a knack to understand his enemy's behaviour well. That's how he knew when they were gone.

"That's true, but-"

"There is no but. It's either true, or it isn't. Now, answer me this: you saw the debris and wreckage that was left over after the attack, yes?" Mandarin had come to the end of his patience on the matter and stared down Antauri.

"Yes," Antauri answered back. He refused to back down though and maintained the piercing eye contact with the other Mystic.

"And it was a fairly large amount, correct? Enough to be the remains of a large ship?" Mandarin pushed.

"Yes, but-"

"_And_ there is no possible way for that creature to survive long in the vacuum of space without some sort of vehicle, correct?" Mandarin presented the last piece evidence. He gave a small yet noticeably smug smile.

"Yes," Antauri said. Although, he said so very grudgingly.

"Then it is concluded that the Skeleton King could no longer be a threat of any kind. You worry too much, Antauri." Mandarin shook his head in mocking pity and walked off, leaving his closest friend standing alone in the hall with a dissatisfied taste in his mouth.

* * *

The orange Hyperforce leader and the golden warrior monkey sparred one-on-one in the training room. The punches were hard and unforgiving, the kicks always flew at the weakest joints, but there was an air of polite respect about the no-holds-barred violence – they were hard on each other because they _knew_ they could be.

Mandarin had seen Nova in action - he knew she had vigour and determination and a will that could bend steel with its little finger.

He thrust out and hit her in the stomach. She lurched, rolled back and suddenly lunged forward and threw a punch that had him seeing stars and tiny winged fists flying around.

They both fell to the floor on their knees, huffing and staring at each other in slight mock resentment. It couldn't be denied that they liked fighting. Or that they liked fighting each other. Mandarin could tell himself that fighting Formless and other monstrosities had been a _duty_ – by all means not a _hobby_ – but sparring with Nova was a more acceptable sort of recreational pastime.

Nova herself found that Mandarin could withstand her onslaught better than anyone else in the Robot – and that he was quite aware of this too.

"You left your torso uncovered too many times," Mandarin berated.

"You need to watch your legs – I tripped you over more times than Otto fell over while learning to use his cold fusion-powered pogo stick."

Mandarin scowled at the memory of the incident, which had involved many, many holes in the floor and one large Otto-shaped hole in the roof.

"Don't remind me," he said. His past reactions of haughty anger regarding any 'wacky' mischief the others got into had subsided to weary annoyance. Where he once might've thrown the Mother Queen of all hissy fits he now simply settled for a glare and a 'Clean this mess up or die quickly' threat that almost, _almost_ contained a hint of dry humour - if one squinted. He was definitely mellowing up. Or edging closer to a silent breakdown. Whichever.

Mandarin got up and dusted himself off dignifiedly. His fanatically straight posture and tendency to always pose dramatically used to have Nova think him a zealous screwball dictator.

Nova nearly smiled. With what she'd seen him do to the Skeleton King, with what she know knew he was capable of, every day she thought he looked more and more like the true leader he'd always claimed to be. He was still a daft control freak, but it bothered her less than it used to.

She took her battle stance. He turned with fists lifted.

They couldn't deny they liked this.

* * *

"Still slaving away where you belong, I see," Mandarin commented as he entered the kitchen where Helen was flitting about.

She shot him a particularly nasty glare (not that he saw it, mind you) and ignored him with all the courteous grace she could muster. It was odd that he even deigned to talk to her, he usually ignored her existence to the degree where she sometimes doubted whether he truly knew she was there or not. She liked to return the favour as best she could.

Mandarin calmly got himself a glass of water and chugged it down while leaning against the counter - right in front of where she needed to be.

What did he want?

"Can I help you?" Helen asked scathingly. She matched his rigid posture and crossed arms and raised him an eye-ridge.

"No need to be _rude_, I am your mate's best friend and leader after all," Mandarin said with a smug inflection as he began to fiddle with her cooking ware.

"I am trying to fix you all a meal - although you're going to have to bathe before you come back in here - and you're in my way. Unless _you _want to take over the cooking duties for tonight, I suggest you let me be."

"My, my, you do have quite the tongue. Tell me, does Antauri let you get away with such sass?"

Helen upped her glare another few notches and felt a heated flush begin to over take her cheeks. Sometimes she really hated blood-dependent beings.

What in the stars could _he _possible want from her enough that he'd resort to trying to intimidate her through _tattle-telling_?

"Don't you have some leader-ly duties to do? Like go lecture Nova about her little outburst before the battle."

Anything to get him off her back and out of her kitchen. Even if it was at the expense of _Nova_.

"Nova isn't leaving," Mandarin replied flatly.

"Oh? So you've cornered her into staying, have you?" Befriending Sprx had some advantages, such as learning to back-talk and art of euphemism.

Mandarin finally returned her glare and scoffed at her, setting his now empty glass on the counter he drew up to his full height (barely taller than her, but it _did _make his presence feel larger). She matched him with a challenging stare without fear - she was far to agitated and angered to be afraid right now.

"No," Mandarin broke the tense silence that had encased them with a growl. "She will not leave because that is going to be her choice. Whether she knows it or not, she _will _be a part of this team until her final breath. She's tasted the true victory over true evil, and she will never be satisfied with any other type of battle, so I don't have to corner her or persuade her or any other manner, she'll stay by my side out of her own free will. _That _is what power grants you, the ability to have others freely follow you till death."

Helen had no real comeback to that little speech - as much as she hated to admit it, Mandarin could really rally the Right Words to get precisely what he wanted. Luckily she didn't have to respond because right at that moment the subject of their discussion walked in.

The yellow monkey followed the leader's earlier course and got a cool glass of water. She turned to the two who had lessened their glares but transferred their hatred into their posture and so appeared to be standing a little unnaturally still.

"What?" Nova asked. Clearly she had interrupted something.

"I was just wondering, Nova," Helen said. Her voice was harder than usual and had a cynical edge to it that set Nova on guard. "Are you still planning on leaving us?"

Nova looked between the two monkeys, not liking what she saw in either of their eyes, and finally settled her gaze on the glass in her hands.

"... No, I don't think I am," she responded after a minute. "I know we beat the one Bad Guy, but there'll be others out there. This is what I've trained my whole life for: to battle the oppressors of the universe, to save the innocent, to be a guardian of the people. I didn't think we were doing that before, but now I see that not all the villains are going to come out at once and I want to be there when they do; to beat them back and show them that they'll never win. I'm gonna stay on the team."  
Helen's jaw was clenched far too tightly to respond and her fist were balled up to the point of pain. Not really at Nova's decision, but at the smug and know-it-all grin that the oh-so-cherished leader was giving her.

"Very good," Mandarin said. He finally vacated his position and walked out of the kitchen (with an extra hop in his step, Helen swore).

Taking a deep calming breathe and recalling everything her teachers had ever taught her on controlling emotions and how to deal with high-handed beings she let her anger go. She looked over at the yellow monkey who was still staring intensely at her glass as if it would give her the answers to whatever questions she was mentally conveying to it. Helen felt a flash of pity go through her at what the poor girl must be going through with struggling with her most sacred and foundational beliefs, but then decided that Nova wouldn't really appreciate the sentiment and let it go.

She calmly went back to dashing around the kitchen, allowing Nova her quiet time as much as possible.

"Is it right?" Nova asked.

Helen stopped in surprise but regarded the other girl calmly and as wisely as she could managed at the moment.

"Is what right?" Her voice was back to being overly-soothing and peaceable.

"Staying here," Nova clarified. Her eyes spoke of her reluctance to ask the other female, but her greater need to be reassured.

Helen mulled over everything she knew about the situation, dragging Nova's patience through a rough patch.

"Do you _want _to stay?" she finally asked.

"... I think so."

"Then I think you should stay."

And with that they split ways.

* * *

Meditation is supposed to drain the mind of all thoughts, feelings, and worries so that one may reach a higher plane of such things. This is a difficult task even to the most studious - as in example with the black monkey who at this moment was using his skill to simply ponder his troubles on this plane instead of the relaxing and rejuvenating experience it was prescribed to be.

Mandarin was the source of this diversion from normality. To be precise, Antauri was becoming worried about Mandarin.

The leader was becoming more distant as of late. While the others reveled in the newly acquired free time and bonded more from this change, Antauri couldn't help but fret over it. It was so unlike his brother it was almost disturbing.

Mandarin was a a hard leader no doubt, but Antauri knew that he was only like that because he wanted them to be prepared for whatever the universe threw at them - because he _cared_.

This increasing introversion was most out of character and a little frightening.

He'd tried to approach his friend about it once, but the leader simply waved him of and ordered him "not to worry about it" and said that he was being overly analytical.  
He was most concerned with how Mandarin was closing himself off from the strengthening bonds that were being formed by the others. Mandarin never joined in the various merry-making the others came up with, and Antauri realized that he did not want to appear "weak" in front of them, but surely smiling and having fun wasn't a "weakness."

His absence from the bond that was tightly being weaved was distressing.

Furthermore he was closing himself off from Antauri. Mentally, he was retracting his aura from Antauri's awareness. Physically, the time between their mutual meditation sessions became longer and longer, and the orange monkey had gradually become less and less willing to discuss his thoughts and plans with Antauri, both as his Second-in-Command and as his _friend_.

Instead, Mandarin mulled over them in silence, as if having abandoned the advice of his friend in favour of listening to the alluring whisperings of some dark mistress.

There was the need for a bit of personal space and then there was deliberate isolation. Antauri resolved to approach his leader again on the subject. Soon.

* * *

Since the Battle with Skeleton King, training had both intensified and eased up. They were all being pushed harder during training, but Mandarin seemed to have had some sort of revelation and allowed them all more free time. That was fine with him. His circuits were starting to wear down.

"Thought I'd find you here," the red monkey said. He was once again standing in the entryway to the kitchen watching the unofficial team chef dash around in preparation of some dish.

The white monkey whirled around to face him with a smile alighting her face.

"Where else would I be?"

"Don't know, thought you might have taken up some sort of hobby, with all that free time you've had lately."

Her smile faded somewhat, or it at least became less sincere. "Yes... all my free time. Maybe cooking _is_ my hobby."

"Nah, a hobby is something you do for fun to eat up time. Cooking is a profession for you. You have to do it or else you wouldn't survive the day."

"Like you taking off for a 'quick trip'?"

"Exactly. Now, what wondrous concoction are we working on today?" He came over rubbing his hands in preparation. The counter had assorted spices, flour, cooking utensils, and one very large mess assembled on top-it felt almost like home.

"Cocodip for the Banana Spicecake."

"You know I hate bananas right?" He looked as if he'd just bitten into something sour.

"There's also blueberry pound cake for it."

"Now you're talking. So, what's our first step, oh master chef?"

"_First_, we need to check on the cakes to make sure they're not burning."

"Don't tell me, tell the audience."

"What audience?" Helen looked around the room and out into the halls for any other team members that might have popped up.

"The one we're trying to sell our million dollar recipes to. They're tuning in from all over the cosmos."

Helen gave him a bewildered and confused look but nodded and went along with it. She really did need to check on the cakes.

"Could you keep whipping the dip?" she asked.

"Yes'm. You see here folks, you want to keep at this until the dip is nice and smooth in texture-no lumps." The red monkey was talking towards the empty room as if there were a camera crew recording their every move.

"When it's perfectly smooth then you need to add the powdered milk," Helen chimed in. She was playing along with his little shenanigans for now. "Continue to whip the dip until all of it is mixed very finely."

"Now, you can add whatever type of chocolate you want. I like mine to be of the dark chocolate variety, but for this one we're simply going to add powdered chocolate substance. If you want you can melt chocolate chips and pour them into the mix, or go ahead and add them as raw chocolate chips."

"If you do that then you need to be sure and crush them up while you stir."

"Afterwords, you put the mix in the microwave for about..."

"Thirty minutes. Let the dip melt. Once that is done, you should continue to whip it until it has turned to a nice dark brown color. Feel free to keep adding chocolate and reheating until it is to your liking."

"After the break we'll show you our finished products."

"What are you two _doing_?" Nova asked. She had come upon the two talking to empty air and displaying unfinished cooking to it as if they were teaching someone how to make it.

"Nothing," Helen said, embarrassed. She quickly took back the dip and began the previously mentioned final touches to it.

"We were just goofing off," Sprx said. He was far less embarrassed than his cooking partner. "Got a problem with that, darlin'?"

"Yes," Nova said. "There are better things to do than goof off. You could be putting in more practice-which you desperately need, may I remind you."

"Sheesh, you've been spending way to much time with Mandarin. Lighten up. It's okay to have fun every once in awhile."

"Not when we have higher priorities. We're not like other people, we have a Universe to save."

"Well if fate _is _on our side-which I'm not saying it is-then we'll win regardless of how many practice hours we put in. So I'd rather have a good time than be stuck never being good enough or prepared enough for every little disaster."

Nova glared at the two cyborgs in the kitchen. They were both just so _frustrating_. It was like they didn't even _care _that this was the only life they'd get so they had better do something important with it.

"Why don't you join us?" Sprx asked.

"What?" both females called out. Their eyes were wide with disbelief and incredulity. They looked at each other then away; both were angry at the male for suggesting such a thing.

"It won't be that bad. We can put you in charge of the salad or something easy."

"I don't think so," Nova was indignant. As if she couldn't handle something as simple as cooking. "I have better things to do than behave like a lunatic while making everyone's meal. I am not some weak little bimbo." She stormed out in a self-righteous fury.

Helen remained silent at the parting shot and went back to scouring the cabinets for that box of pasta make.

"Don't let her get to ya," Sprx told her.

"I don't."

"Oh come on, I was trying to be a good person and offer some sort of compromise. Would it have been that bad if she made the salad?"

"No, I suppose not. It's very hard to mess up salad," her tone was still stiff and formal with a slightly offended edge.

"Hel... Do you want me to leave?"

"No... No you can stay. Please. You haven't been in here in a while."

"Yeah, sorry about that, but every time I tried it seemed like Mandarin would drag me off for some more training. I'm not _that _bad of a fighter."

"It's all right. You have a duty to uphold that requires a lot of your time. I'm not mad at you."

"Whatever; as if this job is all that important. Really, the only reason this planet needs protection is because we attract all these monsters and crazies."

"It _is _important. It's what you were _created _for. You can't honestly tell me that your old life was so spectacular that you'd give up all this for it. It's so monumentally important that the very fate of the universe hangs on the outcome. You were created to be a hero, Sprx. You were created to do this."

"Oh? And what do you know about our creation? Did the Mystics tell you all about us? What makes you think that what we do is that important that we were literally made for it?"

"I... do not know much beyond what the Verans told you all. I was informed before I was bound to Antauri that he was a key player in the fate of worlds. That it would be he that would help guide the Chosen One-the one our order is devoted to finding and helping, who will bring the universe into a peaceful era. And think about it-there are only six of you in all of existence. This Robot is far too convenient to be anything other than made for you. These monsters are coming out _now _that you are here-you're rushing the Universe to the final climax of good versus evil. I know you value your independence and freewill, but is it really so painful to believe that you have a purpose? One of great importance and stature?"

"... Maybe, Hel. Maybe," Sprx said with a sigh. He began to cut up the ingredients for the salad. His posture was severely changed from the confident and playful on he came in with.

Helen let the subject drop and turned to her own preparation of the meal.

Sometimes, she thought, Antauri was a much easier companion than even Sprx.

* * *

_Salad. Something easy. _

Nova stormed towards the training rooms, looking the very picture of an enraged tornado and likewise threatening to tear apart anything that looked at her funny.

_I don't do 'easy'. _

They just didn't take this – the Team, their Fate - seriously. They didn't. That idiot Sprx seemed to have some sort of commitment issues and Helen really should just know better considering her upbringing on Paralladoll.

_I am not 'easy'. I am not _weak.

"What has angered you _this_ time?" a neutral voice asked – interested enough to ask, but not likely to care about the actual answer.

Nova looked up to see the orange leader exiting the adjoining room.

"Those two in the kitchen," she huffed and continued pacing down the halls, slowing down a bit when his footsteps sounded behind her. "They seem to think this is all some big joke, some stupid nine-to-five day job where you can just come home and forget all about it until the next time you check in!"

"Quite."

Mandarin had become oddly sparing with his angry rants these days and more introverted as well. Sometimes he'd just _watch_ them and she got the feeling he was quietly evaluating them - not only as fighters and Team members, but somehow also measuring them against some greater ideal.

It reminded her of Master Offay – one could never be good enough, learn enough, accomplish enough. You could only become better and there were always somebody stronger than you out there.

"They aggravate me as well," Mandarin said, calmer than usual; but his voice was full of the standard irritation whenever the subject was the pilot or Antauri's significant other. "Such lax behavior. Such _flippancy_. Both are weak, but do not care to improve."

Nova didn't care to remind Mandarin that Helen, because of her 'malleable body structure' or… something (she admittedly zoned out when Gibson started gibbering about all the _fascinating_ characteristics of Helen's physique), wasn't much use in hand-to-hand combat. Nova didn't care right now and she knew that Mandarin didn't ever either.

The yellow monkey simply huffed in agreement.

"There's still much to learn," Nova said angrily. "And so many people are counting on us to be _better_ than most! And they're just messing around with _cakes_ and _imaginary friends_!"

Mandarin regarded her quietly for a moment with that calculating look in his eyes.

"I can teach you, Nova, to rise above the crowd. If you are willing to learn."

Nova paused for a moment. There was something… oddly serious about the proposal. It wasn't just a "Yeah, what a pair of wusses - let's go spar some more," - it held a deeper meaning she couldn't quite get at. As if she might be agreeing to something more than just extra training.

_What, are you afraid it might bruise? Give you a black eye? Would you rather go do something _easy_? Like _salad_?_

She sent him a hard glare and firmly said: "I'm ready for anything."

Mandarin smiled enough to show a bit of teeth. "You will be."

* * *

Laughter drew him in - toward the homely smells of baked goods and cheerful smiles that had become more and more normal as of late. Since that Final Climactic Battle and the subsequent ice-cream raid the general mood of the team had become much more peaceful and happy. Otto was more than glad for that, he was a naturally happy person who liked to see others happy. Mandarin had finally come around and realized that fighting all the time wasn't going to solve their problems and had even let him call him by nick-name more often.

The green monkey wandered into the kitchen where he found Sprx and Helen shuffling around making dinner and jokes. He had to smile as well at the delicious scents that filled him up and at the same time let him know just how empty he was.

"Hey guys," he said.

The red and white monkeys looked up and him with familiar and jovial smiles that had his own thousand-watt grin spreading across his muzzle.

"Hello, Otto," Helen said. "What can we do for you?"

"Um, is dinner almost ready?"

"Not quite." Otto was pretty sure he'd never actually heard Helen laugh before. It was nice. It was like little bells tinkling with joy. "But if you help, it'll get done a lot faster."

"Okay!" He joyfully skipped over toward the counter and began stirring the pasta as instructed. "So, what're you two laughin' 'bout?"

"Oh, just some silly little joke that Sprx heard one time," Helen replied. She had a very pleasant smile as well. She almost seemed to glow with happiness - and considering her upbringing and species she just might be.

"What? It's a good joke," Sprx said. His own familiar lopsided grin firmly planted on his face.

"Can I hear it?" Otto asked.

"I don't know, you might not get it."

"Please?" Otto bugged his eyes and jutted his bottom lip out in an innocent "pouty" expression like a young child would.

Helen broke down laughing again at that and Sprx even gave in to a chuckle or two before he relented and agreed to re-tell the joke.

"What's brown and sticky?" Sprx asked.

"Um..." Otto looked blankly at him then glanced over at the expectant Helen who seemed to be having difficulty controlling her laughter. Her eyes were lit up in excitement and happiness and her intermittent laughter was distracting him. "... A stick?"

Sprx's mouth dropped open as he stared at Otto in shock and Helen full out threw her head back and laughed in delight. She had to set her knife down and clutch her stomach before she accidentally did someone in from her shaking.

"How'd you know that?" Sprx asked. He was still smiling somewhat - but that was really more because of Helen's reaction than anything - but he was looking at Otto like he couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened.

"Well, sticks are brown and stick-y," Otto intelligently replied. He didn't _quite _get what was so funny about the joke or his figuring out the answer, but that was okay, his smile was still disarmingly large and he was enjoying hanging out with the two.

"Yeah, but - never mind," Sprx said and just shook his head before going back to prepping for dinner.

Helen finally got herself under control and wiped the tears that had gathered at the corner of her eyes away and only let out a few small chuckles every now and again.

Otto couldn't help allowing his smile to grow just a little more.

_So this is what home feels like..._

* * *

_Cold. _

_It's so _cold_._

_I hate this. __I hate the stupid cold metal floor and my stupid wet fur.__ I hate the stupid little frozen water droplets all over the place and the stupid controls making this and stupid Mandarin for tricking me into this._

'_Teach you rise above the crowd'. Teach me to be strong, hah. I _am_ strong. What is he trying to prove - what is he trying to _do?

Nova had another particularly violent shiver (that looked something more like a demon possession gone wrong or a mild seizure) as she glared at the reflective glass that separated her from the no-doubt-smug-and-warm orange monkey that was putting her through this.

She wouldn't cry out though. She wasn't _weak_.

Her jaw was clenched too tightly from trying to keep her teeth from chattering anyway.

_This is stupid. Mandarin is stupid. I hate this._

Wrapping her tail around herself provided more emotional comfort than physical. She could see her breath, wiggling in front of her muzzle like a faint ghost and she felt a flash of warm hatred run through her at the sight.

_This isn't natural. No planet could be this cold - my circuits are icing over. Monkeys can't survive cold._

_I will not break. Not in here, not like this - not at _his_ hands._

She tried to latch onto that warm anger in a feeble hope that it would help her in some way.

_Cold. Cold. Cold. It's so cold. I __**hate **__cold._

* * *

_Plip_.

"Steady," the blue monkey said to himself as he gently tipped the beaker in his hand over the other one placed before him on the counter. He crouched down to eye level with the beaker on the counter, watching the few drops he needed slowly fall into it.

He quickly backed away with a held breath scanning the new chemical mixture for any adverse reactions. A few moments of stillness passed before he slowly ventured back to his original position. He switched out the beaker's positions and scribbled a few notes on the notebook beside him before setting off to refrigerate the new mixture.

The sound of rambunctious laughter reached him and he listened for a moment.

"I'm becoming sentimental in my age," he told himself. He shook off the silly notions of joining the rest of the team in whatever mischief they were creating now and forced his attention back on his work. It wouldn't do to daydream.

Besides, he was much more like Mandarin and Antauri - a silent, educated individual who didn't revel in noise and bad humour. He doubted either of them would be up for random company at the moment.

He observed the liquid beginning to freeze over, even at the moderately cool temperatures in the refrigerator.

"Interesting."

* * *

Small, delicate flakes of snow grouped on the glass, slowly covering the image of the quivering yellow monkey inside the simulation room. Staring into his reflection of the glass, Mandarin felt nothing but the cool metal of the control knob against his robotic sensory receptors.

He regarded her struggle with a detached air and superior knowledge that pain and experience were the only teachers who continuously successfully taught their students. Anything less was weakness. The weak couldn't - shouldn't - survive. There was no safe haven for them anywhere, no matter how many cities they built or how big they herded together, they would inevitably fall.

Unless they served the strong, that is.

His sisterly companion wrapped her arms around herself, shaking with anxiety at the cold she couldn't escape. It should have bothered him, but it didn't.

The distressed look in her paled eyes and the way her mouth curled up in want to scream her misery at anybody who would listen should have bothered him, but it didn't.

_"As surely as Shuggazoom will fall then so will the rest of the universe follow it."_

That skeletal slave was right about one thing, Shuggazoom was too important to simply leave unguarded, unprotected, un-mastered. It was one of the last peaceful planets left among the galaxies - if it fell into anyone's hands the other surrounding planets would follow it's lead, causing a domino effect until the very universe was at the mercy of the Shuggazoomian Master.

And _he _had been given the planet.

It was his to protect, to guard, to rule. He was the Chosen One. It was his destiny to go forth.

He could not have weak subjects. If the yellow monkey on the other side of the glass truly was willing to become as strong as she needed to be, she'd have to prove it. If she couldn't even handle a change in weather how could he trust her to go forth in his name and possibly rule in his stead?

The fear she emanated almost seemed to penetrate the thick glass separating them and seeped into the control booth; an intoxicating scent of superiority, of control, of _power_.

It was an obvious fact that he couldn't be _everywhere_, but he could have trusted stewards who would represent him to the masses. The masses which would follow his commands as surely as any soldier follows his general, his leader, his lord, his _god_.

The power to without restraint follow his Destiny. The power to do as he wished. The power to do to anybody as he deemed best. The power to do anything to anybody because he _could_.

He could do anything.

He could wield Chaos into Cosmos.

He could rule the world into pandemonium and back into utopia if he felt like it. It didn't matter. When you can _do_ anything, it doesn't really matter _what _you do. Nobody can stop you. Nobody can hold any sort of laughable ethics over your head; nobody can swat you off to one side because they don't quite like your tone or feel you aren't being sensitive enough or polite enough about saving the entire Universe.

Power. It didn't matter over who or for what purpose. Just having it was enough.

The quivering entity behind the icy glass suddenly held no relation to him, she was no more the sisterly companion who he grudgingly respected for her stamina and technique, her golden fur and livid, pink eyes no longer evoked any feelings of familiarity; any emotional ties, any recognition of her as a coherent, capable being had evaporated the second his hands tightly grasped around the controls that deemed whether she would perish or prosper.

There was nobody in that chamber but a trembling _someone_ under Mandarin's absolute control.

This in particular should have bothered him immensely, but it didn't.

He wasn't bothered until after his sovereignty was thwarted with a sharp glance and familiar she-warrior cry as he suddenly found himself ingrained into the wall by the frozen glass that used to separate the Training and Control rooms.

* * *

Dinner was ready and he had been sent as the messenger. All because he hadn't helped prepare the meal.

_Honestly, shouldn't we have a more regulatory, methodological solution for this?_ Gibson wondered as he paced down the hall toward the training rooms. He imagined at least Nova would be in there.

A sudden shrill, war-cry overtook the halls and he instinctively ran towards it. Seconds later the world turned white hot, then black, and gradually formed again with various spots of colours before his eyes.

The walls that held the training room were bloated with various panels charred and falling off. He dazedly made his way toward the blown out doorway and searched inside.

Two brightly coloured splotches were lying in the now black and grey room - not moving.

The blue monkey reacted automatically in yelling for help and hurrying over to the nearest unconscious monkey. He turned the yellow one over and noted with relief that she was breathing - if only shallowly. Taking stock of her injuries was impossible at the moment; for one she didn't appear to have any, and for another he couldn't quite get his higher cognitive abilities to get over the fact that he hadn't even felt the Robot shake.

_What kind of power are we dealing with?_


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Don't lie. You all knew this quote was coming.

* * *

_**Chapter 9**_

* * *

_"Was this the face that launched a thousand ships...?"_ - Christopher Marlowe

* * *

Helen was highly distressed. She had fallen in love.

She hadn't meant to, but it had forced her hand. If only he hadn't been so sweet, and wonderful, and protective, and strong, and humble, and determined, and astute; then maybe she could have fought it off. But he had been, and now she was sitting there watching him abnormally pace about.

She knew she needed to set his mind at ease about the recent... events.

Yet speaking would be a difficult chore. What had happened to all her training? All her control? All her etiquette and poise and rationale?

What would the Order think if they could see her now?

* * *

The unsettled quiet that stained the atmosphere grew worse as Antauri was drawn from his thoughts by the uncomfortable shuffling of his mate standing in the doorway to the meditation chamber.

"Yes?" Antauri asked. He turned his calm eyes toward the white monkey who looked back at him with none of her own usual serenity. Instead, she seemed distraught and very reluctant to bring up whatever she sought to talk about.

"I don't mean to bother you," she said. "I was simply wondering if there had been any progress in the investigation about the cause of the..."

She couldn't bring herself to finish.

She also refused to meet his eyes. Antauri wasn't quite sure what to do with this new, timid, and uncertain Helen. She'd always been his rock, his friend.

"There has been some," he said. He did not elaborate though; not until she looked up at him. "I'm afraid it's not very conclusive though. We know that the blast originated close to Nova, but all the systems were working perfectly up until that point. Actually, it appears that the settings were at dangerously low temperatures, so there is really no reason for such a blast - nor no obvious source."

"Oh," Helen said. She turned her eyes from him again and appeared to be thinking hard. Antauri let her have her space.

"I'm afraid," she said hesitantly after a few moments. "I'm going to have to disagree with you on that, Antauri."

The black simian looked at his mate in surprise before indicating for her to continue.

"It's just that... What if the blast wasn't an internal malfunction? We all know how... _temperamental_ Nova can be."

"Are you suggesting that _Nova _was the cause of the blast?" Antauri asked. The surprise from a few moments before had turned into absolute shock. He was well aware of how little love was shared between the two females but this...

"Well, no. Not the _cause_. I'm suggesting she was - _is _the source."

Antauri was really and truly floored. He gaped at the white monkey before him, trying to gauge exactly how she had come to this conclusion. It was impossible, wasn't it? That blast had charred the Training room and shattered the Control room. There was no way that Nova could have created that type of power and used it against her own teammate - her leader.

"Think about it, Antauri. Surely you've noticed the aggressive and - for lack of a better word - heated aura around her, especially when she gets truly angry. And if the temperature was at such a low setting, where else would there be heat? Everything else would be frozen."

"What about Mandarin?" Antauri questioned. He really hated to admit it, but Helen was right on that front. The yellow monkey's aura was unusually prone to actually heating the air around her. But surely such an act of deliberate violence toward their leader was disprovable.

"Someone had to be at the controls..."

"What could make you think that he'd do something so-"

"I'm not saying he did. I'm just suggesting that it's possible. You've seen how aggressive he's become lately, how distant he is, how... power-hungry he is."

Looking at her hurt too much, so he didn't. He realized the futility in arguing such points with her, mostly because he recognized that they were true. Still, to actually believe that Mandarin would deliberately set out to harm one of his teammates, and that Nova would in turn rise up and nearly kill them both... It was too much right now.

He needed to think - to be alone - to get over this shock and hurt so that he could be the objective and calm second-in-command that the others would need him to be now.

He looked back over toward her to convey these turbulent emotions, but she was already gone.

* * *

The inside of the Robot was unusually muted. The heroic monkeys inside were oddly reserved and pensive. An unspoken fear wove throughout them all as they stoically waited for any change in their traumatized teammates and tried to fit all the disjointed pieces together.

"You really think she could have done that?" Sprx asked. Silence had never been a comfort to him.

"I'm just stating the possibility," Helen said. She was curled up on the couch, staring at the ground as she gripped her legs tighter to her chest and crushed her chin further into her knees.

The rest of the black-eyed quad all stared off towards the floor as well, trying to come up with some evidence to disprove their female group-member.

"... But how could she have generated such power in so quick a time?" Gibson asked. "There is no conceivable way that simply her _anger _caused the explosion - and it _was _an explosion."

"She has great power in her, Gibson," Helen answered; there was an un-earthly glint in her eye that belied her knowledge of mystical things. "She has always been...hot-tempered. It resonates within every particle of her aura. I've watched it increase over the last few months, but I never could have predicted such manifestation..."

"But that still doesn't explain-"

"There are many things in this universe without satisfactory explanations, Gibson."

"But Mandarin would never do something like that," Otto said. His eyes were wide with an innocent understanding Helen wished she could possess.

"Why not?" Helen challenged. "He's become so distant, so short-tempered, so demanding lately, that it's really no surprise he'd put one of you through that."

"But he's out _leader_," Otto said. "He'd never hurt us."

"Maybe he wasn't trying to," Sprx said. As much as he agreed with Helen's argument, the possibility that it was right was too frightening to believe. "Maybe it was all an accident, or something."

The boys all looked at Helen anxiously.

"Maybe," she conceded.

The hope and relief in their eyes was enough to soothe the guilt for lying to them for now.

* * *

The dim lights and quiet did nothing to help the throbbing in the yellow monkey's head. She didn't even really appreciate the fact that she was in her own bed. She hurt too much to move.

Luckily, as soon as she began to, a firm grip helped her the rest of the way.

"Gently now," Helen instructed as she assisted Nova in sitting up. Nova was too relieved to be annoyed by the soothing voice of the white monkey next to her.

"Thanks," Nova said after she'd downed the warm drink Helen gave her.

Helen only smiled and resumed her relaxed position next to her appointed patient.

"You can go now," Nova said after a few moments of stillness. Honestly, if the other person wasn't going to _do _anything, she'd really rather be alone.

"Actually, I can't," Helen said. "I'm under strict orders to watch over and care for you - despite all protests."

Nova fell back into her bed with a huff, non-verbally showing her disapproval.

"I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself."

"Not in this matter you can't. You aren't allowed to get out of bed, and I'm here to make up for that lack of mobility."

"Wha-Why?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

The yellow monkey answered with silence and by avoiding eye contact. Helen didn't care to respond either and so allowed the silence to encase them once more.

After a few minutes Nova began to fidget around.

"Stop," Helen commanded. "You'll mess up your bandages."

"Well can I at least have a book or something?"

"I didn't know you liked to read."

"Anything is better than just sitting here with you."

"I know we have our differences, Nova, but I at least expect the same respect that I show towards your lifestyle choices from you towards mine."

"So you do have backbone after all. Why don't you ever use it toward your _husband_?"

"Not voicing my opinions is a choice just as voicing them is. What I choose to do is my decision, and what you choose to do is yours. Yes, I support my mate, and that is a choice. I would at least expect you to respect that much."

"It's not a choice when there isn't much of an alternative. I can't respect slavery based on sexism."

"Nothing has ever been forced on me that I did not allow. Did you know that my species are actually gender-less?" Helen asked. Her voice was harsh and she gave Nova a piercing glare to accent her annoyance.

Nova shook her head slowly, letting the confusion and shock of that tidbit of information overtake her eyes. It was disconcerting to see sweet, little, quiet, demure Helen overtaken by emotion that had been slowly building over the last several months. It really shouldn't have been such a surprise - she'd had nowhere to put all that anger and hurt and abuse she'd been receiving. She had almost no real relationships with any of the others as far as Nova knew, besides the little kitchen encounters and Antauri - and well, the kitchen wasn't really the best place to have deep, meaningful conversations, and Antauri had other duties to attend to that really took up his time.

Obviously she had reached her boiling point.

"I _chose _to take on the characteristics of the female gender because I enjoy it more," Helen punctuated her point with the erratic whipping of her tail. Her breathing was heavier now and she found that she had gotten to her feet at some point. "I can become a male whenever I so please - physically, mentally - yet I enjoy being a girl more. Yes, they are considered the weaker sex, but I find nothing weak in supporting another being entirely, or liking flowers, or having a better grasp on your own emotions, or even liking brightly coloured, small, fuzzy things. I did not choose to be a female because I _couldn't_ fight."

Helen paused to give a pointed look at the yellow monkey who was remaining uncharacteristically silent. The yellow monkey had a haunted and guilt-ridden look on her face; her posture was slumped and she had her vision tunneled on one spot behind the white female.

"I choose not to fight because I believe in peace," Helen continued. Her voice was beginning to fall back to its usual soft volume, but there was still a tone of urgency and intense sincerity to it. "I chose to join the Veran Order because I believe they understand and work towards my goal in the pacifistic manner that I support. I chose to mate with Antauri and be a supportive and encouraging help because that is what I believe will help him and ultimately lead toward my goal of universal peace. Yes, he fights - but isn't that what exactly what you're doing as well? Why can't you respect my choices that are to the same end as yours ultimately are?"

Nova sat silent still, letting the guilt build as she reviewed her behaviour of the past months in a new light.

Helen waited expectantly when she finished, but Nova couldn't bring herself to answer the accusing questions that hung in the air.

Another silence swept through the room.

"... I do," Nova said.

"I beg your pardon?" Helen asked.

"I... I like small fuzzy things too - and flowers."

"Your room is so bare, perhaps we'll get you some."

"But what would the guys think?"

"You are a strong, confident warrior; what does is matter what they think?"

* * *

"_It doesn't matter what they think!_" Mandarin would have thrown something if there had been anything in arm's reach. "It doesn't matter what they believe. The truth is that I offered Nova some advanced training lessons. She accepted. Then when we were in the middle of it there was a large explosion that originated from Nova's direction."

"No one is denying that claim, Mandarin," Antauri said as calmly as he could manage. They had been going at this for several days now. He hated to push Mandarin so, but they needed answers and so far Mandarin was the only one able to provide them. "But there has to be more to it. For instance, what was the _exact _origin point of the blast? And why where the temperature settings at such lethal freeze points? We've gone through the remains and it appears that Nova is the origin and the only conclusion from that is that her heating sensors must have overworked - which they would need to from the sheer cold blasting in the room. What _possible _need could there be to have such settings on?"

Mandarin kept his cold stare on Antauri, even as he switched his attention to the green mechanic who was thoroughly inspecting him and his weaponry for any serious damage.

"Could the blast have messed with the controls, Otto?"

Otto jumped at being addressed but covered it up with his usual goofy smile. The tension in the room had been building to uncomfortable levels (Sprx _refused _to go anywhere near it as of late) and he had hoped he'd be able to deflect some of it.

"Uh, I don't think so, Mandy," he responded. "Gibson and I are still sorting out the wiring but we're pretty sure it wasn't an internal cause. The blast looks to have come directly from Nova. Which is weird because I'm pretty sure our circuits can't do that. They'd be more likely to fry than anything else. The controls aren't actually damaged that bad - it just looks bad. It's up and running again and looking at the log the temperatures settings were _manually _set _before _the blast ever occurred. What kind of training was it?"

"Durability under extreme weather conditions. Raising endurance. Sharpening concentration," Mandarin spat out responses as if he didn't care which option the others picked as long as they shut up about it already.

Antauri frowned. "Few planets harbour such a harsh environment as imitated during this training session. I do not see why it was necessary to—"

"No - _you don't_," Mandarin cut the black monkey off brusquely. There was a short pause as the orange monkey locked gazes with Antauri. The black monkey returned the withering stare, a bit unsettled by the surprising force targeted at him. Mandarin continued, his voice low and rigid: "And that is why I am the Leader—"

Otto turned to the workbench at the side of the room – shying away from the sudden level of tension between the other two.

"-and you are the _Second_," Mandarin said, keeping his voice perfectly calm. "This Team has potential to perform great deeds and I shall see to it that potential is fulfilled. For the good of the City - for the good of the Universe." There was the usual zealous fire in Mandarins words as when he usually spoke of their Destiny – but at this moment, the words fell flat and the fire seemed not as much passionate as it was... desirous.

"I see," was the only thing Antauri offered in response.

The Leader's voice turned the slightest bit softer: "I trust you both to aid me in this, as my Second in Command and my ally. We owe it to the City not to squander our abilities, and so I endeavoured to train Nova. How... unfortunate that she proved unready for it."

His voice took a sour edge at the last sentence - however this went unnoticed by Otto as he piped up and his chipper bass voice seemed to wipe away some of the layers of tautness that had settled in the room. "You can count on us, Mandy! We won't let you down," he said and extracted some tool or other from his hand and had a look at Mandarin's singed jetpack.

Antauri crossed his arms. Approaching this without accusing or assigning any sort of blame to the orange cyborg was difficult; Mandarin had reacted badly to both approaches in the past days of attempted questioning.

There was a time when offering criticism wouldn't get him stared down, but Antarui supposed Mandarin never wanted to be caught in such a tight situation as they had when trapped at the Skeleton King's mercy – that he felt a certain amount of guilt for not being able to save the team that unpleasant experience. Antauri likewise supposed this was the reason his friend felt the need to continuously assert his rank through stare-downs and firm berating - however unnecessary doing so seemed to the Spiritual Advisor.

The black monkey admitted that they might _all_ need increased training if his suspicions about the undead villain's true condition proved true (of which he was _sure_) – but improvements should happen gradually and certainly not at the cost of their lives.

There was a time when they could discuss these things, when he didn't need to ponder how to word his thoughts in order to avoid offending his Leader.

Helen's... theory flared in the back of his mind, but he quickly stamped it out. He gave a tiny shake of the head and turned his gaze back over to his scowling orange friend.

Antauri sighed and made to speak, but then a spark flew and Mandarin yelped in sudden surprise as his jetpack short-circuited and treated him to a delightful electrical shock.

"Whoopsie-daisy," Otto grinned sheepishly and patted his own helmet with a knuckle as a playful punishment.

"Watch it!" Mandarin hissed angrily - but that was a familiar routine: the green monkey was expected to mess up somehow and Mandarin reacted with his usual anger; it was a familiar custom – almost amiable in comparison to the recent days where everybody seemed on edge and reluctant to talk loudly and freely.

"Sorry about that. I'll do my best, I promise."

A shadow of a smile flickered over the muzzle of the orange monkey.

* * *

Staring at numerous data screens, trying to find some sort of inconsistency would make anyone's orbs sting after countless hours.

Gibson was thoroughly convinced that there was no such anomaly within these files, and that the whole thing _was _on purpose. He simply refused to admit to any such thoughts. All the data he had poured over for days all held that the controls had been manually dealt with and the blast was indeed a freak response from Nova's heating cells. That conclusion left him feeling guilty though, as if it were he who had caused everything, and not just the interpreter of events.1

A break would do him some good, but he was nothing if not determined and thorough. Pressing on until he reached the inner recesses of Mandarin's personal log files held nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, it proved his unspoken thoughts all the more.

He was finally ready to call it quits for the day until he came across a peculiar encrypted file. Being a creature of science, he had a natural curiosity and couldn't quite resist the mystery of what lay inside. He was sure it was something very personal (a diary perhaps) that he had no right to hack in to, but _maybe _it would yield some sort of definite answer about this whole Training Room Mystery.

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

The clinking of dishes was more pronounced than usual, or at least it seemed that way. It was the only sound to fill up the air. Not that that was a bad thing, it was much better than the fights that had infected their usual, daily interactions.

"Hey babe, what's shakin'?"

Helen glanced over at the far too chipper red monkey who had wondered in and disrupted the dictatorship of the dishes in noise.

"Just cooking," she said. Disinterest laced her voice yet her posture was stiff, but that was nothing new; they were all on edge these days.

"Need any help?"

"No, thank you. I'm sure you have something else to go do anyway."

"Not really. With the Dueling Duo both out of commission for now training has been suspended for a while. I'm _all _yours." Sprx threw a suggestive wink at the involuntarily amused female.

"Well then, I guess that's cause for celebration," Helen responded dryly. "What would be appropriate to commemorate the fact that you'll no longer be plagued with daily workouts?"

"Something filling. Something that is the complete opposite of healthy," Sprx commented. He began stroking the air below his chin in an imitation of having a long beard to show he was deep in mock-thought.

"I believe we have some ice-cream in the freezer," Helen said.

"What flavour is it?" Sprx asked.

"I'm not sure - whatever Otto picked out."

"Too bad, I'm in the mood for _vanilla_." The way he said let her know they weren't actually talking about ice cream. She looked over toward him, taking in his cocky stance, that gleam in his eyes that was _Sprx_, and the lopsided grin that all combined lead one to implicitly know exactly what the pilot was thinking.

"Should I get the whipped cream out to 'celebrate' then?" Helen asked with an identical smirk curling onto her lips.

Sprx - ever the expert - didn't let his shock show at Helen's innuendo. He did let his eyes rove her form for a few minutes; enough to let her feel them on her.

"I prefer chocolate sauce on my vanilla, actually," he finally answered. Unfortunately, Helen kept true to form and didn't so much as bat an eye at the talk or the leer that accompanied it.

"I guess we can make a sundae then - with the cherry on top," Helen said with a wink of her own.

_That _knocked the red monkey's professional flirting mask off. He stood gaping at her for few seconds before breaking down into a convulsive laughing fit.

Helen's own laughter followed shortly after, though it wasn't as hard or loud as the pilots. It was enough to disspell the rest of the world for a few minutes.

"Aw, Hel, I thought you grew up in a monastery," he said after he gained control of himself.

"I did - but you forget my purpose. I was raised to be a companion to one of the students - and not just as a sounding board either." Sprx couldn't tell if that was said in brashness or misery.

"Oh? What other kind of companion is there?" he asked in mock innocence.

Helen gave him a stare that clearly said "I know you know what other kind I'm talking about" but decided to humour him anyway by saying: "The kind with benefits."

"Friendship _is _a very important benefit," Sprx agreed, keeping his mock-serious attitude on the subject.

"Yes, but not _just _friendship."

That devilish smirk she had stolen from him was back. He could only half see it though, because she was still focusing on the food in front of her. He had to admit: he liked this game. It'd been a long time since he'd had anyone to match wits like this with. He did feel half-guilty for it being with his Second in Command and good friend's 'wife.'

"But friendship is the main part of your relationship, right?" Helen stopped and glanced at him. He was serious this time.

She knew of no underlying cause for this sudden turn in tone; he wasn't jealous and she knew he hadn't taken any of their earlier banter seriously - that much she could tell - but she also knew he was truly curious about this inquiry.

What did she tell him? Yes, that had been the first clause in this crazy agreement of theirs? While that was true, she didn't feel like he needed to know that information. It was an undisclosed and private matter between her and Antauri. She knew that it wasn't a standard or very usual occurrence for those of her occupation, that had been thoroughly drilled into her before she had ever been chosen for a Mystic, but how did she tell Sprx that?

They were the odd pair out, her and Antauri. They were actually quite unconventional, with the whole friendship-over-gratification aspect of their relationship. A friend was hard to come by in a monastery, much less on a team a superheroes. And she was truly grateful for that, she loved having him as a friend because he was one of those rare, truly good beings, and she marveled over her position to help him with whatever he needed. She was also bound to him in a completely non-friendship manner as well though. She was trained to be his (for all intents and purposes) servant, and she held that occupation above any other relationship she formed. That's what she was and she had willingly followed this path. So while they _were _friends, she held herself in a more meager position than Antauri would ever admit her to be.

She couldn't explain all that to Sprx though. Not only was it private, it was beyond her grasp of knowledge to put into words. What was so important about this that he had to stand there waiting patiently for her to answer it?

"Yes," she finally said. It was flat and devoid of any opportunities to continue this specific line of conversation. She allowed him to take from that whatever he wanted to hear.

* * *

Nova was trying to go along with the unspoken yet unanimous decision of acting like nothing was wrong but it was extremely hard to focus on her breathing exercises and the right form with Mandarin _right there - _close to the control booth.

The orange monkey wasn't saying anything but she could feel all the corrections he wanted to yell at her. He didn't of course, because something _was _wrong. She didn't know whether to be relieved or ashamed that her leader was somewhat afraid that she'd accidentally, almost kill him again.

Keeping the two strongest (physically and willed) members of the team on bed rest proved to be a challenge no one was up to. Within two weeks sporadic training sessions and meetings and battles were back to being their everyday life. Except there was no talking.

The 'Training Room Incident' as it was referred to in hushed, fearful tones had shattered any meager trust that had been built between the cybernetic monkeys. No one was sure who to believe or what to do to restore what seemed to be missing between them now. They mostly kept to their previous routine of living and pretended they didn't notice anything.

After another ten minutes of the room filling up with the silent cries of stress Mandarin finally left her with a disgusted look on his face, and stormed off to who-knows-where like he had taken to lately.

Nova sighed in relief and allowed her form to relax and began her pre-training exercise once again.

She resolutely ignored the way she shivered when a slight breeze of cool air caressed her as the door closed and how deathly still everything was.

* * *

Otto was looking for Mandarin and as most of the others didn't seem particularly worried when they didn't know where he was, Otto had to search their Robotic quarters on his own for any spot of his orange Leader. The mechanic at last found him on the shoulder of the Robot, gazing over the City with a stern, thoughtful look on his face.

As the natural light retreated with the progress of night, the neon-coloured glows of the signs and vehicles and buildings of Shuggazoom City illuminated Mandarin from below, casting him in a sickly blend of green and pale white hues of light.

Otto approached his friend without restraint. The green mechanic didn't get what the others were mumbling about when they thought he wasn't in earshot. Mandarin was just thinking about things. And he was their Leader, the Leader was supposed to think and plan and speculate over what he wanted his team to do. It was a Leader-y thing to do.

"Hiya," Otto salutated and plopped himself down beside the unmoving figure of the Team Leader.

A couple moments passed until Mandarin acknowledged the presence of Otto with a barely audible 'hm'.

"The City sure is shiny tonight," Otto conversed; as per usual not having any trouble in finding topics for small-talk. "Reminds me of the stars in space. Just less bright and less, uh, deadly warm," he chuckled.

He wasn't too surprised when his comments went unanswered. Otto was used to being met with silence or being flat-out ignored when Mandarin found his constant nattering too inane to warrant an answer... but this wasn't the Mandarin that ignored him because he was annoyed with him – this was a Mandarin too lost in thought to even acknowledge Otto's existence. Thinking about important things, no doubt. Important Leader things.

Otto sighed the way a child does when their parents are too busy talking on the phone or signing paperwork to see the really awesome bug their son had put in their bed.

"If you could change anything about the way this City works, what would it be?" Mandarin asked, not moving to see eye to eye with his green team member and his tone of voice indicated that he didn't expect any particularly intelligent reponse to come from Otto.

"Uhhh, I guess I'd want Ice-cream Fridays. Y'know, to go with Casual Fridays," Otto said happily. "And make it so people wouldn't litter so much."

An airship slowly floated across the cityscape. It was a big, fat, and dark shape gently going about its business and not caring about anything but its own course and destination.

"And what if the Citizens would not listen? What if they continued to drop rubbish everywhere?"

"Oh, I'd be kinda sad because it'd make a mess of the streets. We'd risk stepping in used gum and since we don't wear shoes it'd stick to our fur and then we'd have to shave it and I don't think Gibson would like that. He certainly didn't like it when my multipurpose toothbrush-shaver-and-nail-polisher got a hold of his tail."

Mandarin made a grimace. Determined to keep the conversation off of Otto's little tangents, he asked: "What if they wished to keep spoiling the City despite the fact it only served to hinder themselves?"

"Well, it's their own business and it's their City, so—"

"They would continue this misbehaviour because they are short-sighted and can't take properly care of themselves— would that not mean others should step in and correct them?"

"Don't they have a mayor? Or a... king or something. A baron maybe? ... I'm sure they have a baron somewhere." Otto didn't like all these questions. He felt he was being led into places he didn't want to go.

"A human Leader, prone to human weaknesses. Is it not one's duty to step in and correct mistakes when they appear? To guide the humans onto the right path of Destiny?"

"Are we allowed to do that?" Otto asked uncertainly. He knew Mandarin didn't like back-talk and these days it could _really_ set him off. But it was mostly Sprx and Antauri that kept asking those same questions, so maybe Otto would be all-right and if Mandarin wanted to ask some of his own, then Otto could ask as well, right? "I wouldn't know where to start. Destiny is kinda a big thing to tackle."

Until now Mandarin had never turned towards Otto's direction, his eyes - almost dreamily - set on some faraway goal. But now he slowly twisted his neck around and smiled – really _smiled_.

The sight cheered Otto up immensively – surely Mandarin wasn't plotting or going nutters or whatever Helen thought he was doing when he was smiling as calmly and affably as someone's uncle handing his favourite nephew a newly bought bag of crisps.

"I know my Destiny. I know the Path," Mandarin said; his voice calm and smooth with the iron assurance of somebody who is convinced they're right and if anybody thinks differently they're _dead_ wrong. "All you have to do is follow me without question and the City will be guided to its true Fate."

Otto swung his legs back and forth over the tip of the giant shoulders. "Sure, you're the Leader after all. I got yer back 'cause I know you'll steer us right in the end, Mandy."

The smile on Mandarin's muzzle grew wide enough to reveal an edge of white teeth.

The lights of the City clouded the natural sparks of the stars, leaving only the pallid colours of the cityscape to play across the features of the two monkeys.

* * *

A _swish _alerted him to his visitant. His olive eyes widened a fraction further when he saw that it wasn't the female he expected it to be, but he gave nod of invitation all the same. The yellow monkey silently entered and sat down by the babbling stream as Antauri allowed gravity to grab hold of him once again.

For a while, the stream was the only conversationalist in the room.

"I'm ready to talk," Nova whispered. She met the black monkeys eyes hesitantly but relaxed at his open expression.

"Very well," he said. "What exactly happened in the Training Room that day?"

* * *

Gibson was used to having to make sense of results that didn't correspond with each other – that was science; finding a theory to bring meaning to the data you collected, then testing it over and over until you had a working hypothesis based on logic.

It was seldom that he found himself unwilling to test a theory in order to make a conclusion. Usually scientists do not shy away from making discoveries that shake the very core of previous paradigms.

But this time, he was. Because the conclusion he might come to was far too frightening to consider.

The blue scientist stared at the print-outs as if the disbelief in his gaze might transfer over to the paper and whisk away the blueprints on the desk. They didn't make sense to him. That is, he could all too easily translate the calculations and figures and parables into the attributes of the machine they were describing – but what he feared to speculate was the reasoning behind ever having to ponder the product of what the blue-prints described.

It was a prison.

Not only a containment unit for criminals – there were detailed calculations for devices that shouldn't ever be needed to confine convicts: devices to control the mind, to acquire absolute mastery over the body of another being. There were weapons, robots, alarm systems – and their schematics clearly showed that their range should not only be limited to the prison but reach out into the City of Shuggazoom as well.

Cameras to watch, alarms to constrict, robots to enforce.

Gibson rubbed his helmet in desperation; trying to come with any other explanation besides the shockingly obvious for what reason Mandarin would ever have written up these blueprints in the first place.

* * *

Scattered over the white and slightly reflective floor lay several hundred pieces of metal, bent into shapes of many different purposes. In the middle sat the mechanic and his Leader. The only sound was that of the continuous clink-clank of them fine-tuning the Super Robot's innermost mechanisms.

They had sat here many times before; Otto rambling away, Mandarin telling him to stop acting like a lunatic – yet secretly pleased for the opportunity to incessantly complain about something.

But now... now there was only the tinkering of machine parts against tools. No childish chit-chatting or amiable grumbling. Just the two of them working to repair what was broken; labouring to improve what Mandarin had deemed ineffective.

Mandarin had never uttered a word of command, but Otto knew his friend required stillness.

Otto wanted silence as well. It was better than the questions.

* * *

"What does this all mean?"

"I'm not sure yet. Something though."

"What are we going to do?"

"Do? There's nothing we can do right now. Only wait, we have to see where this all goes, what it means."

"We can't just sit here-"

"What else _can _we do?"

"Fine, we'll wait. For the record, I don't like this though."

"No one does."

* * *

The timer beeped and all the columns began to descend back into the floor. The Hyperforce all slumped from their stiff poses and took deep breathes. All but one.

"No, no, _no_. You are missing the point _again_." The orange leader seethed, visibly upset towards the being in the control center. "You must make sure that we all are divided and then try to take us out one at a time. And turn the setting up. We are not _all_ so weak."

"Mandarin, please, there is no reason for such a harsh tone." The Spiritual Advisor spoke up, frowning at his Leader.

"No need? _No need? _How is she to ever learn how important this is if I do not tell her what to do? If she would just get it right for once I would not be forced to take on such a tone-but then again, I am speaking to one who cannot grasp the basics of combat training."

"It is not that she does not understand, it is just that she chooses to refrain from such activities in an Oath of Pacifism and out of medical reasons. You know that."

"Antauri. Whether she chooses to fight or not is not the issue. The _issue_ is that she cannot manage to correctly monitor the Combat Simulator. I'm afraid that we shall again have to take turns with such a duty while the others train instead. Who would like to take over first?"

"Mandarin. I will respect your decision to release her from such a duty, but I _will not_ tolerate such a degrading manner. She is doing her best and that is all you can ask of someone. She will learn just as we are all learning to work together. Time is the key." Venom started to seep into the normally calm monkey's voice.

"Forgive me, Antauri, I did not mean to offend you. Perhaps you would like a first turn in there?" Mandarin said with an innocent trill.

"It is not _I_ who you need to apologize to."

The black commander turned his back on his leader and walked out of the training room. The rest of the team maintained their awkward silence as Mandarin watched him leave.

"I think... we could all use a break." Nova dared to chime in.

Mandarin whorled towards her, his face unsurprisingly full of rage. "... Very well. Any of you who think that this is all a game and need to rest your lazy circuits are welcome to leave."

Nobody moved.

"All right, Antauri, if you would start up the simulator?" Mandarin called toward the control booth.

A few moments of stillness passed as everyone held their breath awaiting the familiar hum of the columns rising. When nothing happened Mandarin called out again and again until he finally stormed over to the booth. There was no one inside.

* * *

"Thank you for defending me."

Antauri stopped pacing and looked over wonderingly toward her. He made his way over to her and took her cheek in his hand, stroking the fur along it. She looked up at him from her seat. "Helen... You are very... precious to me. And I will not tolerate such vile language toward you."

If he hadn't kissed her then she would have said 'I love you.' She could feel the words caught in the back of her throat, held at bay only by his lips sealing hers. They were surprisingly hard to swallow; so she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back - crushing her lips further closed in an effort to keep those awful words back.

She was determined that those sentiments would never be uttered.

It simply would not do.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Welp. I am very tempted to end it here just for the sake of resolution in a fic. We have a couple more chapters after this about Chiro's emergence, but that's where we lost our motivation/time. What do y'all think? Want the others or would you rather leave it here?

* * *

_**Chapter 10**_

* * *

"_The man who __fights __too long against dragons becomes a dragon himself." _- Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

"Attention everyone," Mandarin's voice sounded throughout the Robot. "We'll be having a Team meeting in five minutes. Everyone is to report to the Command Centre."  
The intercom cut off with a squeal that had everyone wince.

For a heartbeat there was nothing (sound, movement, feeling), then Antauri's shuffling cut through. Helen looked over her shoulder to watch her mate stand and begin to head to the door. She gave a slight frown of disapproval, but turned her attention away once more.

Only the gentle bubbling sound of the little current in the meditating room was heard after Antauri left Helen to attend to the meeting in the Common Centre. She wasn't allowed to participate. She wasn't allowed to participate much in anything anymore.

No one had ever _told _her that that was the case, but much like every other message that was left unsaid, it made itself known.

The silence was reeking havoc among them all.

It rang in the air with with a deafening cry. It did everything possible to get the attention of it's creators. It thrashed and howled and screamed its way into every crevice of the Robot until it ruled over everything. It ate at nerves and tore at sanity.

There was no talking, no laughing, not even any arguments could be heard among any of them anymore. Whatever camaraderie they had developed had been unceremoniously snapped. There was nothing more to them now but the mutual silence that wove it's way into minds and settled there, spreading everywhere in a naturally irritating manner like dust.

Helen dipped her fingertips into the stream; hoping the physical touch of cool water would likewise help bring coolness to her worried spirit. These past weeks she had been in a state of perpetual anxiety and uneasiness – a condition she had witnessed in the others as well. Except Mandarin, of course. He was reserved to the point of being rude and fanatically stoic as always – almost completely detached as if staring into another dream world. A world of conquest; a world of megalomania.

Helen stroke the fur on her side, but found no peace in this gesture. Perhaps it was not too late. Perhaps there was still time.

The white monkey stuck the rest of her hand into the cool water.

* * *

As always, Mandarin was standing in front of the large viewscreen, waiting impatiently for everybody to assemble. Usually, he would have hollered for silence and made many theatrics before they could get on with business, but not today. Not these days.

Nobody made eye contact as they gathered in the Common Centre. Nobody laughed or made pointless small-talk. Any such petty social acknowledgements had been stuffed away in favour of a mutual isolation; nobody seemed to want to know what the others were thinking – out of fear that they might be thinking the same things.

Antauri hadn't settled in a chair but stood straight – rigid, even. Nova kept balling her fingers into fists and relaxing them again. Sprx glared intently at a point under the ball chairs. Gibson seemed to murmur all the prime numbers to himself as some sort of nerdy nursery rhyme. Otto was curled up in his ball chair, his tail wrapped around him protectively.

Mandarin turned to face them. They all felt his critical stare. They all felt compelled to, if not meet it, at least peek at him in response. The tense discomfort that had built up towards their leader ever since the Training Room Incident was almost a physical presence in the room.

"You are my Team. My soldiers. My allies. We have served this City, catering to the needs of simple people who cannot take care of themselves - helpless creatures unable to protect this planet that is so vital to the plans of Destiny for the universe. I have decided that the time has come for change."

There were no theatrics, no flailing his arms around, no pointing to the sky, or making elaborate gestures - only the icy voice of Mandarin as he told them the exact extents of his proposal to take over Shuggazoom City as its rulers.

As each perfectly articulated word fell from the orange leader's lips, the other monkeys felt like they were sinking deeper into quicksand, falling out of existence, not really believing the meaning of the words as they were spoken. Antauri closed his eyes. It was like he was standing on the deck of a small dinghy in the stormy masses of the ocean, being thrown hither and dither and each word was another wave ramming him at full speed and sloshing a cold, undeniable truth in his face. Gibson had taken to shaking his head lightly, trying to wake himself from this nightmare world he suddenly found himself in. Otto's eyes, usually bright with wonder at everything shiny enough to warrant his attention were now the dull and lifeless glass eyes of a doll, staring keenly forward, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, saying nothing.

Only the rage and shock of the red and yellow monkeys respectively interrupted Mandarin:

"You _can't _be serious!" Nova exclaimed as she and Sprx got up from their seats.

"Are you still hopped up on those dodgy meds Gibson gave you?" Sprx asked angrily. "You wanna be _even more_ of a dictator now?"

Mandarin stood perfectly still, but narrowed his eyes until they appeared as two dark slits: "I expected no other reaction but haphazard conclusion-jumping from _you__, _SPRX-77. And no, I intend to steer the humans onto the right path of Destiny, as the pitiful beings are clearly incapable of doing so themselves. They have no direction, no determination, and no drive of their own. We are far superior in mind, and body; logic dictates, no, the very _essence_ of Nature dictates the rule of the fit over the unfit." The last part was said while Mandarin very pointedly shifted his unrelenting gaze to the Hyperforce scientist.

Gibson shook his head slowly, then more vigorously as he spoke: "What you are proposing... it cannot be justified by logic. This is... this is _ethics_ and it's not right, it is wrong, immoral. These Citizens are sentient beings and we cannot impose on their most fundamental rights of freedom."

"You are saying we should stand by and let them make decisions that ultimately lead to the doom of the Universe?" Mandarin asked scathingly.

"_Yes!"_ Sprx shouted and took a step forward. He always knew that arrogant holier-than-thou attitude would bring trouble but _this_... this was just unbelievable. Or maybe it wasn't and that made him even angrier. "Because it's their _right_ to mess up if they want. It's not about being the strongest or the survival of the fittest – it's about being able to botch things up, or goof off, or do anything they _want _to. Life is more than just needs and evolution. It's about choices and mistakes and working and fixing and being whoever you are. It's all about their freedom of choice – _you _have no right."

Mandarin didn't flinch, but it was becoming worryingly clear that he was growing extremely annoyed with the conversation. "That hopelessly liberal idealism is what has brought about so much trouble for us already. Tell me, does that cute little tirade extend to your bounty hunter friends? Should I have let Skeleton King invade Shuggazoom City because it was his freedom of choice to do so? Of course not. Because we ruled that his choice to do so was unfit for the course of Destiny."

"We didn't want to take over the Universe with Skeleton King. What makes you think we'll do it with you?" the golden warrior spat.

Mandarin very pointedly stared down Nova but the female warrior met his gaze, steeled by feelings of anger and treachery.

"So that is how it is going to be?" Mandarin asked, pronouncing each word, each syllable with the utmost precision. "I am now a villain to you? Because I wish to guide the people more sternly? Because my proposed methods are not idealistic and pleasant and _cuddly_ enough for you?"

"This is not our duty." Antauri said. His voice was as calm and neutral as ever, and Sprx had to wonder just _how_ he could manage that at a time like this. It felt inappropriate somehow. "Mandarin, we are _servants_ of the City, protectors only. We cannot interfere with their decisions or laws; we cannot intrude on the freedom of any being this way. You may reason as eloquently as you muster, but it is final: we, the Hyperforce, can never become the rulers of Shuggazoom. It is not within our right or Destiny to do so."

"Then perhaps... the Hyperforce should be no more."

It was like lightening had struck them all, leaving them immobile as a hundred thousand amperes fried their circuits and toasted their bodies. It would have been preferable, instead of having to face this grim reality, this twisted lunatic that had once fancied himself the very epitome of all that was Proper and Right had just disbanded them out of spite and ire.

Otto slowly slid out of his chair and hit the floor with a dull sound. Gibson wished he was far away, back on his scholarly planet with the equations, and research, and timetables he never was able to follow.

Mandarin's displeased expression grew to one of spiteful self-righteousness: "Know that the only factor which separates madness from determination is whether the determined man in question wins his battle or not." The energy blade sparked to life with an ominous sizzling sound. "And I very much intend to stand as the victor of this battle."

* * *

Verans do not sleep. But that is not to say they cannot be visited by nightmares.

Master Zan stared into the pure green swirls of the Power Primate, trying to ignore the persistent presence hailing his mind for a mental link. The Veran Mystic knew who it was, he knew why he had come, and he knew what he had come to gloat over.

Mandarin was gone, shifted over to the other side. And his creator wanted Master Zan to join him.

* * *

"Mandarin, it does not have to come to this. It is not too late."

Behind Antauri, the facial expressions of the others betrayed the black monkey's words. It was much too late. There had been too much anxiety, too much fear, too much warranted suspicions to ever go back from here.

"You are not this foolish, Antauri. Do not act so. If you wish to lead the Hyperforce with your wishy-washy ways, so be it: have your mutiny. I shall see to it that my Destiny is fulfilled. None of you shall stand in my way."

Mandarin stepped into an offensive stance, flexed his knuckles with a pleasing crack and extracted the shield as well. Antauri - as a last resort before the argument would undeniably become physical - reached out to his brother's mental presence.

It was a strange feeling and his first response was to want to jolt back in revulsion at what he found.

It was startlingly familiar on the thin surface but he needn't scratch at it to see the _wrongness_; a dark taint -_more_ than a taint - a _core_ of corruption. And that was the tragedy: someone you knew and cared about had been twisted, had been swayed by a dark mistress, and perverted into this wicked… _pretence_ of a soul which was parading about in the guise of this once dear friend.

Before Antauri could draw in the breath to voice his final warning, a swipe of the blue energy blade crackled through the air where he would have been had not Gibson pushed the black cyborg out of harm's way.

And that was it. The final drop that sent the masses of water spilling over the edges. Mandarin had always been malicious with Sprx – granted most people wanted to hit Sprx at some point (and Nova had certainly done so more than a few dozen times) - and short-tempered with Otto, and rude to Helen whenever he felt like it; but Antauri was Mandarin's oldest friend, the peace-maker, the mediator of the group. Attacking him was like ripping apart the white flag, setting it on fire and then stomping on the ashes – it left out any opportunity to ever settle this peacefully.

So it finally came to this. To Nova clunking her fists together, Sprx's magnets sizzling in preparation, Gibson's drills pointing out vital parts to hit, Antauri focusing the Power Primate to attack, and Otto slowly getting to his feet sending a truly heart-broken look at Mandarin that said _"Please don't do this."_

But he did.

* * *

Helen never heard the sounds of the scuffle and nobody thought to stop and ring her up to inform her of it as they were busy not being cut into smoking pieces of shish kebab. The white monkey walked the well-trodden path to the kitchen, already busy in her thoughts with preparing the midday meal.

Mandarin was becoming increasingly unbearable, but she never expected him to act in pure malice against the Team.

So when her limited aura reading abilities allowed her to pick up the mental ripples of pain coming from Antauri, she dropped her ingredients in pure shock and darted off in the direction of the Main Control Centre.

* * *

After having made sure that Antauri and Nova weren't too badly damaged after being flung headfirst into the wall, Gibson and Sprx turned to a cruelly sneering Mandarin.

"Fools – I have taught you every useful battle technique you will ever know. What hope do you have of defeating me?"

"I'm really sick of your voice, Mandy," Sprx growled and hurled an attack at the orange monkey, which he side-stepped. "All you do is rant dramatically like a Saturday morning cartoon villain."

Mandarin lunged at the red monkey and the metal weapons scraped against each other with ear-splitting results. Mandarin pinned the pilot against the wall and hissed: "And I suppose you fancy yourself the hero in that ridiculous metaphor?"

"Don't you know? Unlikely heroes are all the rage – and _anybody_ would do better than _you_." Sprx said and placed his foot on the orange monkey's torso and kicked him off. _Monkey-doodle_ was it a fantastic feeling to send that haughty douchebag gasping for air. Gibson moved in to launch a far-range attack which Mandarin dodged, albeit staggering.

Gibson glared offhandedly at Sprx. "Saturday morning cartoons-themed banter? That's hardly appropriate for this situation."

"Y'know what's hardly appropriate? Discussing the quality of my trash-talk in the middle of battle."

An enraged war cry alerted them to the female warrior's wish to enter the fray again. She teamed up with Sprx in order to flank Mandarin while Gibson and Otto attacked his left side. Antauri picked himself up and rushed to their aid having no fighting partner of his own to worry about anymore.

* * *

The tubes were locked off. The tubes were never shut off permanently like this (the only time was when Otto's bath-tub cleansing robot mosquitoes went on a cleaning rampage through the Super Robot and they sealed off the tubes to keep them from spreading.)

When she entered the door code for the seventh time and the door continued to deny her its tube-entering ability, Helen had to pause and wonder that either she had forgot the correct code or that somebody had made sure to keep her out. Or to keep the others in.

Really, even if she managed to open it, what would she do? Throw a few custard pies around, offer a tray of flapjacks to anybody who behaved themselves? Helen banged on the door a few times just to let out the frustration of being so helpless, so _useless_.

She couldn't fight, she couldn't harness the Power Primate, and she couldn't calculate some elaborate scheme or high-wire the door or fly a vessel or even make friends with anybody besides the easy-going pilot and her mate.

Whom she couldn't even keep her promise of friendship to.

It was all so hopelessly stupid. Helen could very clearly hear the shouts and bangs of the battle on the other side of the door; yet here she was, unable to do anything about it but slink off to the kitchen and make a plate of sandwiches for whoever came out alive and able to consume solid food.

A mental cry of pain was all the motivation Helen needed in order to snap out her momentary despair and make her reconsider all previous ideas of leaving the door alone.

She didn't need to high-wire the door panel. She just needed to cut off the specific wires inside as Otto had showed her when he gave her a tour of the interiors of a few hundred select parts of the Super Robot during a misguided attempt at bonding. She had tried to pay attention, but all his technobabble just seeped out of her mind as quickly as the green monkey could spout it – all but this. Stress and adrenaline had an interesting effect on the mind, at times.

Helen took at deep breath and returned to her original form.

She had come to resent this body. When you lived amongst a band of colourful, cute little robot monkeys and your true form was a writhing mass of tentacles it wasn't a wonder she'd become self-conscious.

Helen willed a tentacle to become as thin as paper and slipped it under the panel, then with great difficulty she returned the mass to the appendage, very slowly pried off the panel and revealed the inner machinery. Helen winced. She wasn't used to displays of strength or durance, ever.

She quickly sought out the correct wires and ripped them out. Luckily, this form was so desensitized that she barely felt any pain as a few sparks flew from the assaulted electronics. The door whizzed open and for a while, she just stared at it, not comprehending that she'd done accomplished something besides cooking and cleaning.

She returned to her robot monkey form and went to enter the tubes where she was greeted by a gloved fist reaching for her throat.

* * *

Mandarin was sent flying in a tangle of limbs and indignant shouting and crashed into the wall. He sent the others a hateful glare, furious at the sudden luck in battle the others were enjoying. He tried to summon that anger, that cleansing determination and hatred he felt when he was eye-to-eye with the Skeleton King. It seemed to elude him.

Mandarin growled in frustration and darted for his tube. It didn't hurt to be prepared and he had made sure to change the door codes in order to gain a short time advantage should he need one. The orange monkey disappeared, much to the dismay of the others, who regrouped around the tubes.

"What the—" Sprx hammered on the closed off tube. "It's locked! Why is it locked? That orange son of a—"

"The door access codes have been changed," Gibson informed while fiddling with the panels. "It should be a simple matter of—"

"I think you will want to stay put for now," the haughty voice of Mandarin sounded over the intercom.

"Think again," Nova snarled. "We'll beat your sorry rear all the way into prison, where it belongs, you lunatic."

"On the contrary, _Helen_ is the one who will be sorry."

Everybody froze. They were so used to never having Helen around in battle that they hadn't stopped to think she might be at risk in this one. The monkeys exchanged deeply worried looks. A flat-out hostage situation was a delight they had been spared up until now.

And up there, with their deranged former Leader was the white monkey at his mercy. Shy, little Helen who never went out of her way to attract too much attention, who never meant any harm, who kept to the kitchen and just tried to get by as quietly and unobtrusively as possible.

She was a pacifist who never meant to interfere with their fights and now she had unwittingly become a key player in the most unnerving way possible.

* * *

Struggling only added to the aggravating pressure around her throat, of course.

That didn't really stop her from wriggling about and grasping at the surprisingly strong grip that held her.

"Stop that," Mandarin spat. Working the controls single handedly was enough of a hassle, but having to do so while keeping your other hand clamped upon a resistant body made it even more difficult.

Helen only glared harder at him and renewed her struggling.

"What did you do to them?" Helen finally asked. She hadn't felt much more pain shoot through the others for a while, but they were obviously still alive if the orange monkey was making her a hostage.

"I offered them the universe," Mandarin said.

"Why're you doing this? What good can come out of it?"

"Good? The _greatest _good will come out of this. Destiny can not be stopped, my dear. Once those mutinous so-called-heroes are out of my way, I'll be able to truly follow my path."

"The path of Darkness only ever leads to hell," Helen sneered at him.

Mandarin smirked at her in an infuriating manner - a glint in his eye telling her that he knew far more than she on this subject.

"The greatest leaders only ever rise up out of such a path."

* * *

"Well, we have to do _something_!" Nova roared.

"What, exactly? Rush up there just to see Mandarin fling Helen out the window?"

"It's better than faffing about down here, just giving him time to rewire the whole Super Robot and kick us out!"

"He won't." Gibson cut into the dispute between the red and yellow monkeys. "Mandarin has secured access to the security mechanisms, but I have successfully cut off his control of them. Unfortunately I had to do so by shutting them down so we cannot use them to our advantage." He looked up from the consoles, a weary look on his face.

"So he's still up there _with Helen_. Except if we rush up to see him off her, we won't be shot at on the way. Groovy," Sprx rubbed his helmet.

"Could you stop talking about bad things happening to Helen. I think it's putting Antauri on edge," Otto whispered.

Over by the control tubes, Antauri was pacing neurotically, each time he turned on his heel his tail swung about violently.

"We should attempt to negotiate," Gibson said, having finished his work by the computer console.

"_Negotiate?_" Nova echoed with astonishment. "With that— that _creep_? Gibson, are you _out of your mind_?"

"Weren't you the one who wanted to make a move?" Sprx asked.

"We can't give in to whatever insane demands he has!"

"Yeah well, maybe we can debate this for a while longer, hm? – it's only _Helen's life_ that's at stake here."

Before they could argue further, Antauri physically went between the two and addressed the blue monkey: "Gibson, open communication with Mandarin. We _must_ attempt to reason with him."

Gibson tapped a couple of buttons.

"Mandarin." Antauri called; his voice tense and shaking at the edges.

"Ready to reconsider your positions given the circumstances?" the mocking voice rang out through their auditory receptors. "Helen will be pleased to hear that, I should think."

"Don't hurt her," Otto called out weakly. "She's... she hasn't... she's really nice, Mandarin. She's done nothing."

"Exactly. She has done nothing of value for this Team besides filling up empty space. But that is really enough of her – let us discuss your unconditional surrender."

"I... _what? Surrender?_" Nova huffed. "For all we know you're _bluffing_."

"Oh, well then. You shall have your proof."

Then the line went oddly silent. The monkeys just stared at each other in worry for a couple minutes before a long-lasting, piercing scream ruptured through the empty air, sending a cold chill of utter dread up their collective spines.

The scream was drawn out to a whimper before the line went silent.

No further words came from the intercom. None were needed

The other monkeys stood petrified and quite unable to properly grasp the ramifications of the tortured shriek that had rattled their auditory units. Slowly, horrible disfigured images filled their minds.

Nova trembled slightly clenching and un-clenching her jaw and fists, then looked to the black monkey whose back was still turned towards them. He appeared as stone-like as always. When he slowly started giving orders - still not facing them - his voice was unnaturally calm, hollow, and devoid - as if his cybernetic neural implants had taken over while the primal instincts were forced to be put down for now.

"This is a critical time, Team. Our first priority is getting Helen out of his grasp. Nova and I shall go and face him directly - as a distraction. Sprx, Otto; I want you to make your way through the vents and meet up with us. Gibson, you are to stay here and counteract his commands as much as much as possible - we will need you for navigation as well. Can you do that?"

"I - yes."

"Good. This is going to be difficult, he won't relinquish control easily. He knows he ultimately cannot win this battle. He knows we will never allow him to do this."

With that, the black monkey took off toward the tubes with the yellow one close behind.

While Nova and Antauri went for the tubes, Gibson turned to the consoles yet again. The red monkey tried to exchange looks with the mechanic, but Otto was reluctant to give any more indications that he was aware of what was going on around him. Instead, he looked blankly at the yellow and black spots that whizzed up the tubes.

Gibson entered commands and started up programs as fast as his robotic fingers could manage.

They didn't like what they'd been told. But then again, they didn't have to. As long as Antauri gave orders, they would follow them. Faith had little to do with it. There just didn't seem to be any other option that could get them to anything close to victory.

Not that Gibson would ever consider anything to do with today's incidents a 'victory' for anybody.

* * *

"_He knows he ultimately cannot win this battle. He knows we will never allow him to do this." _

_Does he? _Nova thought as Antauri's last words rang though her ears. Most of her doubt at the time had been washed away by determination: they were going to do something. They were not going to sit around and wait for Mandarin to take charge as always. This time she would be able to rise up and smash his head in and _not_ stand around waiting for a miracle.

From the consoles in the Main Lounge, Gibson was still keeping them updated on Mandarin's whereabouts by tracking the orange monkey's hacking activities - simultaneously muttering words of disapproval of the hackneyed plan through the communication implants in their helmets.

However, he was mostly drowned out by the echo of Helen's agonized scream still ringing in her ears. Nova tried to shut it out and focus on following her Second-in-Command's furious tempo. Antauri might not have wanted to let it show through words, but it was painfully evident that Mandarin's addition to his wannabe emperor stunt – pulling Helen into the fray – had clearly had gotten so far under his skin that Nova wasn't sure if he could keep his usual composure when they reached their former Leader. She dearly wished he would because judging by the heat she felt boiling inside her, she knew she most likely couldn't.

Nova wasn't a pure, innocent damsel with naive morals. She was an Action Girl with a warrior's creed of honour. Mandarin had wronged her – sure he wanted to wrong the _entire_ Universe as well, but he had wronged her _first_ and she wanted revenge for that _first_.

She assumed Antauri's livid resolve to be, likewise, tainted by personal concerns. She would have smacked him comatose if it wasn't.

It didn't matter who of them lost control first, she supposed. And it didn't matter for what purpose or reason as long as Mandarin was never allowed to fulfil his insane fantasy of tyranny.

In the end the thought rarely mattered as long as the right people won the battle.

* * *

It doesn't matter where or when or for what purpose: if there are vents in any building, any vessel or machinery, odds are that somebody leaning towards the courageous side of the moral compass is going to be crawling through them for escape and/or rescue purposes, frantically trying to piece together some snippet of a plan and banging their heads against the ceiling at each twist and turn.

_Bang!_

"Ow!" Sprx yelped and glared at the dent his helmet had created in the metal surface before edging along on all fours behind Otto. Both monkeys were struggling to amble through one of the smaller passages in the ventilation network - because apparently not all ventilation shafts were manufactured with the intention of 'heroes being sneaky' in mind.

"Monkeydoodling having to crawl through monkeydoodling vents this is monkeydoodling Mandy's fault for monkeydoodling just _having_ to go crazy and stuff I swear —"

"Don't call him that," Otto said firmly.

"Wha—"

"Don't call him _Mandy_."

"I... okay. No, okay ... it's still his fault."

"..."

The green and red monkeys ambled along in relative silence. There were no words spoken besides that of Sprx's cursing every time he hit the sides of the vent. At last, they came to a fork; Sprx brought out his auricle communication device and called on Gibson.

"Please for the sake of my bruises' bruises tell me we're nearly there," Sprx pleaded.

"Regrettably, Sprx, I cannot for certain tell you where 'there' is yet. Mandarin seems to have eluded me for the time being and I cannot pinpoint his exact location."

"A simple 'no' would've been enough," Sprx groaned. "How the scrap are we going to be able to stop Nova and Antauri from doing their stupid heroics if we can't find them?"

"I suppose we will burn that bridge when we get to it."

"I think you mean 'cross that bridge'," Sprx replied and scurried along after Otto who just decided on the centre direction.

"I don't think that I do," Gibson said and cut the transmission.

Sprx balled his hands into fists and swore under his breath. If Helen wasn't in one piece when they got to them there was going to be much setting fire to things. Living, breathing things like treacherous orange spit stains.

* * *

The hand around her throat tightened involuntarily.

"Here comes your most precious knight," Mandarin hissed at her as he watched Antauri race through the halls toward them from the viewscreens.

"He _will _defeat you," she hissed back. A renewed fire lit her eyes that transfixed Mandarin with curiosity for a moment.

A twisted, sickening smirk of delight warped his face, haloing it in darkness. His eyes burned though. They penetrated her so completely she froze enough to feel her heart rate spike at the malicious glee he was exuding towards her being. The humourless chuckles that followed from his changed countenance set her nerves into overdrive, racking shivers up and down her body until she thought she wouldn't be able to stand if he wasn't holding her so firmly by the neck.

"You're in love with him," he said simply. The darkness that had enveloped him never left as he watched her.

"You're insane," she gasped. Not from his claim, but she absolutely knew on a very basic level that all sentient beings possess that she was looking into the face of pure madness. There was an indescribable rapture in his eyes as he watched her squirm and cherished the knowledge that he could easily end her life that no sane being would ever hold. He simply wanted to watch the universe fall at his feet because he could.

"I think not, my dear. No matter - it will _never _be returned. I'm afraid your beloved is already spoken for, he's given his heart to his precious Power Primate. He'll follow it wherever it goes."

Fear raced through her blood in a greater quantity than she could have ever imagined, but she found the strength to challenge his stare with her own.

The clapping of feet on metal nearby interrupted their contest.

"Let's see how much you're worth, shall we?" Mandarin asked as the black monkey finally came into view.

_'Please don't do anything irrational.'_

* * *

Antauri's pace came to a halt as an energy sword was suddenly pointed right at him. In his mind, he still couldn't help but think of it as _his friend's_ weapon and how he still had trouble fully accepting that he would henceforward stand on the receiving end of the blade.

They took a minute to just _stare_ at each other before Mandarin broke into a huge grin as if he was welcoming a long-awaited guest.

The energy blade ever so slowly turned from facing Antauri, to hovering dangerously close to Helen's throat. Releasing the crushing grip from the white monkey's neck Mandarin reached out and entered a code on the nearby computer panel. In reaction, the emergency doors started closing, effectively trapping the three in an enclosed area of the hallway.

Or, they would have, if Nova hadn't lunged forward and squeezed under the door before it closed. She rolled over the floor and landed on her feet; sending dirty looks in every direction until she regained her bearings and ran to Antauri's side.

Mandarin's looked at her amusedly: "Well, well, well. The little _girl_ wants to play rough with the big boys?"

The overall temperature of the room seemed to rise a few degrees at that.

He had grudgingly respected her for her determination, her steadfast character, the way she stood up to others – but all that vanished the minute he saw her crumple under his control during that fateful training session. She was breakable; she was frail. She was _weak_.

Those thoughts must have been visible through his shifting expressions, because Nova brought out her fists and moved to a battle stance.

"You _didn't_ break me, you bullying _freak_. I'll _gladly_ prove it to you or _anybody _who dares say otherwise."

She didn't get to move a centimetre before she felt a firm hand on her shoulder.

"No."

Nova turned to look incredulously at Antauri, all but yelling in his face to bugger off about this and let her turn Mandarin into a stain on the floor. He looked past her and directly at Mandarin.

"Mandarin. Your fight is with us; not Helen."

"_You_ wanted her to be a part of this team. This is the only purpose she is any good for – a helpless living shield," Mandarin sneered. He had returned to his original position of firmly crushing Helen's neck with his energy blade extended toward the main threats in the room; he shook Helen about to emphasize his words. "I knew from the second you agreed to this despicable companion arrangement that this _pitiful_ creature would be your downfall."

Helen sent a pleading look at the two Hyperforce members. Whether it was a plea for rescue, or if she was trying to tell them to get out of harm's way or that they shouldn't worry about her was hard to say.

Antauri went on, clearly upset by Mandarin's words, but still his words were eerily calm: "Let Helen go. We will—"

"Oh please. You will what? Exchange places? Surrender? I think not. I think..." Mandarin put on a mock thoughtful expression. He casually deactivated his sword before he lifted his hand to point at the two opposing monkeys. "I think I shall just kill you where you stand."

As her would-be rescuers were lifted a few feet above the floor and thrown directly into the wall, Helen felt Mandarin squeeze her neck the minute Antauri's helmet collided with the hard surface.

She rarely cried – she had been taught to express sadness in other, more productive ways – but now the tears pressed on and she felt a sob wanting to escape her throat. She wouldn't let _him_ have the pleasure though, and so mustered all her strength to keep quiet. But as the two monkeys were tossed hither and dither (_why didn't they resist?)_ like lifeless dolls by a bored child, she found it increasingly hard not to sob out her desperation.

As Antauri and Nova slid down the wall - Nova slightly unconscious and mumbling something about ripping off somebody's tail and whipping him to death with it - the black monkey glanced at the ceiling. Then he started sidling along the wall, as if wanting to put distance between himself and his demented brother.

This seemed to please Mandarin to no end. The orange monkey walked casually, practically dragging Helen after him as he moved in for the last personal, spiteful comment before the kill.

"Do not worry yourself, old friend," Mandarin hissed; deliriously joyful. "Death comes to all. The only difference between you and me..." the blue energy sparked almost in anticipation."... is that I shall die laughing while _you_..." he lifted the blade to the black monkey's face. "... will simply die."

Normally, in this situation – after this the villain's arrogant epitaph – the hero would stare hatefully and declare that evil would never triumph or something equally cute; but Antauri seemed more interested in a particular spot on the ceiling. This put off Mandarin somewhat. The least Antauri could do was pay attention when he was about to be brutally murdered.

Frowning, the orange monkey glanced upwards to see what he was vying with for attention. His eyes widened in surprise and Helen took advantage of his temporary shock and tore away from Mandarin before a sizeable chunk of the ceiling decided to fall on them. Mandarin moved away, but not quickly enough to not have the large grid formerly covering the ventilation shaft fall flat on his left foot.

Two monkeys looked down, one of them grinning something that couldn't be heard over their former leader's high-pitched howling and screaming of death threats

"Mind if we drop in?" Sprx yelled and targeted Mandarin with a red blast that sent him flying through the room in a graceful arch.

"About time you dorks showed up!" Nova exclaimed and rubbed her helmet. "Now – let's get tearing!"

Through the haze of pain and humiliation, Mandarin could make out the figures of his former team members cautiously advancing on him – cautious not to let him escape, _not_ because they feared him.

He had lost his edge, and his hostage. He had lost his team. He was alone.

Mandarin pushed himself up the wall and frantically typed in numbers to have the emergency doors open, and sent a triumphant glance at his enemies when the door opened, allowing him to escape—

Right into the held-out drill of Gibson. Before Mandarin could even start to emit a Monkey Mind Scream, Gibson activated his drill and shot what looked like a few cubic metres of cobwebs, crumbs and dust into the dumbstruck face.

While the orange monkey sputtered and coughed up cobwebs, Sprx edged in and asked Gibson: "What's with the dirty tricks?"

Gibson didn't look too proud of the unconventional ammo. "I must have forgotten to empty my drills after Mandarin less than politely ordered me to vacuum the entire robot," he replied dispassionately.

"Classy," Sprx said.

Mandarin leapt to his feet. A look of pure malicious determination lighted up his otherwise darkened features. Debased, defaced, dethroned – he was all those things, but he would never give up without a fight. He might be trapped, he might be grossly outnumbered, but he would make sure this was a fight the others would never forget. He would be the shadow that haunted their dreams of peace and justice forever.

He held up his knuckles, cracked them with a nauseatingly jarring sound and smiled the smile of a person who has lost everything except the strength of will to leave a few lasting scars before he welcomed oblivion.

* * *

In the end, there was no cheer, no jubilant applaud from the crowd, no sense of self-worth or joy over the triumph over evil. There were no victory ice-creams or playful banter or teasingly pointing out where they had come out short during the battle. Not this time. Maybe not ever again.

There was only the muffled sounds of the Monkey Team as they gathered to discuss what to do with the unconscious body of the former Leader of the Hyperforce; the very picture of the shattered pieces of a once noble dream.

* * *

No Citizens littered the streets of Shuggazoom. No curious eyes peered out the windows or looked mournfully at the Monkey Team. It was like everybody somehow knew that something terrible had happened to their protectors; something that they had to bear and try to heal on their own. And so, either out of a sense of privacy or just because they didn't know how to properly deal with this, the Citizens simply stayed away while the robot guards of the HOOP carried the limp body of the former Hyperforce leader away.

As the little group of robots encircling their prisoner passed the remains of the Monkey Team, the head of the orange monkey suddenly snapped to attention and glared at them. Then a smile plastered his muzzle.

Sprx and Otto found that Mandarin smiled far too much lately.

"You pitiful fools – _failures_ – do you think this proves anything? That you are superior to me? That your feeble notions of good and wrong pertain to this? Compared to your dull, blind devotion to ridiculous dreams of being slaves to unworthy insects I had _ambitions_! Great plans for you all! But you have scorned me, _failed me_." At this point Mandarin started to cackle hysterically: "I will _destroy_ every trace of your disgraceful existence, see to it that your pathetic memory is removed from the Universe from all time – I will wait for my revenge, I am eternal, I am sup-uhhhfffgonnakillyouall—"

Mandarin's speech of vengeance was promptly cut off when one of the prison guards rudely whacked him over the head to keep him quiet and another shoved a tranquilizer dart in the first patch of exposed fur it could see.

The robot guards dragged the snoring body of Mandarin off to the temporary holding cell in the ship headed for the HOOP.

The monkeys watched emotionlessly, as the shuttle sped off into the atmosphere and the fiery exhaust was reduced to a tiny yellow dot in the distance.

Helen clung to Antauri's arm. Gibson shook his head lightly. Sprx crossed his arms and mumbled something unintelligible. Nova went to tug on Otto's shoulder when the green monkey didn't seem able to tear his gaze away from the point where the shuttle vanished into the darkening evening sky.

"What now?" the red pilot asked.

"We hope, and we wait," the black monkey answered. His voice was as sure and strong as it had ever been, infusing his words with the confidence and assurance the others needed at the moment.

In the end they had nothing more to do. The monsters had been vanquished for now, and the sun was finally setting on this adventure. All they had left was time and a flimsy hope. A hope for a new leader, hope for a new beginning, for a new adventure, for their real destiny to start.

They waited a long time.


End file.
